Incense Rising
by the lurker
Summary: Mr. Raines is on the warpath with Miss Parker once again,while Sydney tries to come to terms with some of his demons,unleashing bottled up resentment from his past.
1. Part I

Incense Rising

THE PRETENDER  
Incense Rising  
by the lurker  
  
**The Centre  
Mr. Parker's Office**  
  
The alarm klaxon blared with all the elegance of an angered bull elephant charging through a poppy field. Mr. Parker looked up from the reports he was working on, and was practically blinded by the flashing white emergency lights.  
  
Oh for pete's sake.... Parker stabbed at his intercom button, What the hell is going on?  
  
The calm voice of the head of Centre security came back at him, We have a fire, sir, but it's just about contained.  
  
  
  
Sim Lab, Mr. Parker.  
  
Parker frowned, wondering if his daughter was anywhere near it, Are you sure of containment?  
  
Yes sir. We're shutting down the alarm system now, it should be off in a few minutes.  
  
  
  
Parker thought about the possibilities for another millisecond, and then he quickly stood up and left his office, heading toward the Sim Lab.  
  
**************  
  
**Sim Lab**  
  
Miss Parker was in effect, blind. The smoke in the Sim Lab was too thick to see two feet in front of her own face. The alarm continued to sound, the buzz of it reaching all the way through her, making her want nothing more than to bolt from the room. The white emergency lights blazed off and on, hurting her eyes, even through the haze of the smoke, which had filtered its way into the corridor where she stood, on the other side of the observation glass of the Lab.   
  
She heard the large grind and humm of the emergency blowers as they whirred into action; within a minute the smoke began to clear. She could see several members of Centre security and Maintenance clad in protective fire gear, using fire extinguishers to quell the remaining embers in the Lab. She swallowed hard, the smoke burning her throat, and she quickly glanced around the room, looking for the reason she had panicked. As the smoke continued to clear she spotted him. He was on the floor in the corner of the room, huddled over a small body.  
  
Parker bolted through the door and into the Lab, making her way past the busy emergency crews and over to the man she thought of as a second father. As she approached she could see that he was coughing profusely, but trying to administer CPR to the unconscious child on the floor.  
  
Parker yelled to a passing worker, Get a med team up here, now!  
  
He nodded and moved off to comply, and Parker turned toward the psychiatrist, Syd? You okay?  
  
Never mind me, he coughed and gasped for air, Help me with Eric.... he gasped again, I don't have the breath...  
  
Parker moved past Sydney and began to breathe into the mouth of the little boy lying on the floor. Sydney maintained the compression's to the child's chest. As a medical team entered the lab, the alarm and emergency lights stopped, and normal lighting was restored to the room. Parker moved out of the way of the med team, and noticed that Sydney had not.   
  
She gently took his arms, Come on, let's give them some space.  
  
He didn't really resist her, so she moved him toward the wall, and helped him sit down, leaning his back up against the stone partitions for support. His breathing was heavy from the smoke inhalation, and black soot covered his face and clothes.   
  
She looked into his face, You okay? He nodded, and Parker called to a med tech, Can I get some oxygen over here?  
  
The tech handed a secondary O2 tank to Parker and then went back to the team working on Eric, who was not responding to their efforts. Parker put the mask over Sydney's face, and turned on the tank, he tried to push it away.  
  
_Hey....._leave it on.   
  
He held her eyes with his for a moment as if he were going to resist, but then lay his head back against the wall, and focused on the little boy fighting for his life.   
  
She pulled his gaze back to her, What the hell happened?  
  
Eric is part of the gifted children's outreach program. He was here testing out some new IQ and psyche tests we've been developing to measure a child's capabilities. He stopped for a moment, gulping down some oxygen, and Parker rubbed a gentle hand on his chest, after a minute, he continued, There was a sim involving chemical mixtures--  
  
--You allowed a child to play with hazardous chemicals, are you out of your mind?  
  
There was a failsafe; none of the chemicals in any combination should have been able to produce anything more than a fizz, much less a fire. Parker raised her eyebrows and he quickly added, I can't explain this. It shouldn't have happened. His eyes filled with sorrow, If he doesn't make it...  
  
He gobbled down more oxygen and Parker stroked his forehead, Okay, just relax. I need to get you out of here.....  
  
No. Eric....  
  
They both looked over as the doctor finally called it, shaking his head at the failed attempts.  
  
Sydney slammed his eyes shut, Oh god no.....this is my fault.  
  
Parker took Sydney's hand in hers, and turned toward the med team, Can someone help me get him out of here, please?  
  
Two burly interns came over and with one on either side of Sydney, they lifted him onto a gurney. Parker held his hand as they wheeled him out of the lab. As they moved down the corridor, her father intercepted them at a quick pace.  
  
Angel...thank god. He touched her arm lovingly, and then frowned in Sydney's direction, Is he going to be all right?  
  
A doctor answered, He'll be fine.  
  
Parker held onto his daughter as the med team wheeled the gurney toward the elevator, Angel, are you all right?  
  
Yes Daddy, I'm fine. But Sydney...  
  
You heard the doctor, it's just a little smoke, he'll be fine.  
  
Neither of them had noticed the sound of the squeaky wheels in the hallway and the raspy voice of Raines made both of them start, That all depends.....  
  
Miss Parker turned to face Raines, What does that mean?  
  
She saw Mr. Parker and Mr. Raines exchange a look, and her father tried to smooth it over, He means simply that Sydney tends to internalize these kinds of things, honey, you know how he is--  
  
--Don't coddle her. Raines' voice was filled with satisfaction as he then turned to Miss Parker and continued, An investigation is already underway to determine the cause of the fire, and the death of the boy.  
  
It was a chemical fire, we already know that, there was an edge in Parker's voice that Raines knew meant business.  
  
Yes, Miss Parker, but we need to ascertain who is responsible for placing combustible chemicals into the hands of a child. If it was Sydney, he will be held accountable.  
  
Miss Parker's eyes flared in anger, Listen to me, Dr. Death, Sydney would never endanger a child, not willingly at any rate. If there were chemicals that shouldn't have been there, I'd bet my life that Sydney had nothing to do with it.  
  
Mr. Parker was suddenly uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, Come with me Angel, I want to be sure my girl is all right.   
  
He kissed her forehead and pulled her in the opposite direction, sparing a last look at Raines, who was smiling quite serenely. When they were far enough away, Miss Parker stopped and grabbed her father's arm tightly.  
  
Daddy, you know as well as I do that Sydney is overly cautious when it comes to experiments and children at the Centre. He would never make a sloppy mistake with chemicals, and you know it.  
  
Now honey, Sydney isn't as young as he used to be, and you know as one gets older, mistakes of this nature are far more likely to happen.  
  
Miss Parker's brow furrowed, No, I don't buy that for minute. Please tell me you have nothing to do with this.... Mr. Parker looked away, and his daughter moved closer, Daddy? Oh my god, you think Sydney's been set up don't you? Raines? He would know that Syd would flip out with guilt if something happened to that boy.  
  
He turned on her in anger, Don't be ridiculous. The Centre would never sacrifice a child.  
  
Don't lie to me. I'm not a little girl anymore. I know full well what the Centre is capable of, and so do you. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, How could you let this happen? A little boy is dead.... Her eyes focused on a far wall, And Sydney thinks it was his fault.  
  
She started to walk away, but Mr. Parker grabbed her sleeve, Where are you going?  
  
Miss Parker couldn't look at him, Just let go of me.  
  
Mr. Parker took a hold of her arms with his hands, Angel, you have to believe me, there's nothing going on....It was an accident, pure and simple.  
  
She leaned into his face, her teeth clenched, Nothing at the Centre is ever simple. And it sure as hell ain't pure.  
  
She yanked herself out of his grasp and walked away from him; she was gone by the time the squeaky wheels stopped behind Mr. Parker.  
  
She seems quite angry.  
  
She's just worried about Sydney; and frankly Raines, so am I. Mr. Parker turned toward the bald headed man, And if I find out that you tampered with the chemicals, your ass is mine.  
  
Mr. Parker started away, but Raines stopped him, And if it was Sydney's mistake, your ass will be in a permanent sling with the Triumvirate.  
  
Mr. Parker didn't turn around, nor did he answer; instead he walked down the corridor and away from a man he no longer knew.   
  
*****************  
  
**Miss Parker's Office**  
  
Broots entered Miss Parker's office, and the sight which greeted him made him stop short. She was sitting on the floor, amidst tons of papers and reports, books and legal pads.  
  
Uh...Miss Parker? What are you doing?  
  
She didn't look up from her work, I'm conducting my own investigation into the fire.  
  
Oh. Find anything?  
  
She looked up at him, and he realized how tired she looked, No, nothing conclusive. The chemicals present were not the correct chemicals, but there's no way to know how they got there.  
  
Broots knelt down next to her, looking at some of her notes, Well, that's good isn't it? She glared at him, I mean Sydney can't be blamed for something that they can't prove he did, right?  
  
Oh to have such a mind of simplicity..... Broots, you stupid moron, it doesn't matter if they can prove it or not, if it is left ambiguous, then everyone will assume that it was Sydney, including Sydney. That kind of doubt will destroy him, and Raines will use it to get rid of him.  
  
What does Mr. Raines have to do with it?  
  
Maybe nothing, but I'd lay odds, everything. Problem is, I can't prove it.  
  
Sam entered her office, carrying an envelope, Miss Parker, your father asked me to give you this, he said it was urgent.  
  
Thanks Sam.... The Sweeper stood there, and Parker's tone turned to annoyance, You can go.  
  
Yes ma'am.  
  
Sam turned and left, and Miss Parker ripped into the envelope, quickly reading the note inside. Broots stood by watching, as her face turned ashen.  
  
Miss Parker?  
  
Nosferatu's investigation team has concluded that Sydney gave the boy the wrong chemicals. They're suspending him from the Centre's employment base, pending further investigation, at which time he might face charges of criminal negligence.  
  
Oh god, poor Syd.  
  
Parker stood up and went to her phone, punching in a code, Daddy? What are you doing about this?  
  
His voice boomed on the line, Well, I--.  
  
--Daddy. Surely you don't believe that Sydney was responsible....  
  
Well not purposefully, no.  
  
But you believe he's become some doddering old fool, who could make this kind of mistake?  
  
Angel, I don't think you're very objective when it comes to Sydney.  
  
She didn't have an answer for that, and for a moment, there was silence, then she recovered, Has Sydney seen this report?  
  
Not yet, no.  
  
Daddy....let me tell him.  
  
No, absolutely not. You're going to stay out of this...  
  
But Daddy--  
  
--I said no, and I don't want to hear another word about it, understand?  
  
Her voice was tight with anger, I understand, all right; you're going to let Syd take the fall for this. I'm not going to let this go, Daddy. I won't.  
  
Now you listen to me--  
  
She slammed down the phone and looked at Broots, Raines is behind this, I can feel it. He's wanted to get rid of Syd for as long as I can remember.  
  
There must be something we can do.  
  
Broots, see if you can find any visual records of the Chem Lab or the Sim Lab right before the sim took place.  
  
If Raines did do it, he won't have left a visual of it....  
  
Probably not, egghead, but you'll be able to tell if something is missing, now won't you?  
  
He smiled, That I will. Broots started out, Where will you be?  
  
She looked down, I need to go see Syd.  
  
He still in the infirmary?  
  
Yeah, they kept him overnight just to be sure he was okay. Her eyes filled with tears, This is going to hurt him, Broots.  
  
His voice was quiet, I know. He walked back toward her and smiled at her, But it will help if you're there.  
  
She nodded and Broots left the room. Parker took a steadying breath, wiped away her tears and headed for the Infirmary.  
  
****************  
  
**The Infirmary**  
  
The infirmary level had always unsettled her, and she wasn't sure if it was due to all the rumours of experiments gone bad, or just the idea of being around sick people. She shook her head at herself; no matter the reason, the resulting discomfort was the same. Parker looked around, but there was no sign of Sydney in any of the rooms.  
  
She stopped a passing doctor whom she recognized, Dr. Boito, I'm looking for Sydney, they brought him down here yesterday. Can you tell me where he is?  
  
Come with me, Miss Parker, I was just about to check on him.  
  
She followed Boito around a corner and through a door, only to discover an empty bed in an empty room.  
  
Where the hell is he?  
  
He should be here.  
  
Well, obviously, he is not. Is everyone in this place a moron except me? Parker stormed out and grabbed the phone in the hallway, punching in some numbers, This is Miss Parker, check the sign out log; I need to know if Sydney's on it. She waited impatiently, then, Uh-huh. Crap. She hung up the phone and walked over to Boito, If anything happens to him, you'll answer to me.  
  
But it was only a light case of smoke inhalation, he'll be fine.  
  
Parker loomed into his face, You'd better hope so.  
  
Dr. Boito watched Miss Parker stride angrily toward the elevators. It was no secret that she was very protective of certain people at the Centre, and Sydney was among them. Boito exhaled heavily; Miss Parker was the last person he wanted to tangle with, save for Mr. Raines. He shuttered at the idea of being caught in the middle of a war between them. And a war was exactly what it was beginning to look like.  
  
***************  
  
**Broots' Area**  
  
She entered the tech room, and Broots could tell from the look on her face that whatever she was about to say, he didn't want to hear it.  
  
Sydney left. Somebody must have told him, and now he's gone god knows where.  
  
Broots tried to stay calm, Where do you think he would go?  
  
She whirled on him, slamming her hand on his desk, How the hell should I know?  
  
Jeez, Miss Parker....  
  
She looked into his eyes, and her tone softened, I'm sorry, Broots. I'm just....  
  
  
  
She swallowed and looked away,   
  
Me too.  
  
They remained in tight silence for a few minutes, and then Broots spoke again, By the way, you were right; the video record from the Chem Lab yesterday, shows signs of tampering.  
  
What kind of tampering?  
  
Erased, gone, blammo...  
  
Any way to get it back?  
  
Nope. I've tried everything, but whoever did it, knew what he was doing, because it's been completely wiped from the mainframe.  
  
Damn it. She looked up toward the ceiling, her voice raising in pitch, Damn it, damn it, damn it! She took a breath, then stared at him, Are there any other possibilities?  
  
Broots shook his head, Not unless someone transferred it to a file somewhere, or made an mpeg of it.....  
  
Miss Parker's lips pulled into a straight line, Okay. I'm going to try and track Sydney down. I don't think he should be alone right now.  
  
You need my help?  
  
She looked into the concerned eyes and smiled, allowing her hand to gently brush his shoulder, That's sweet, Broots, but, I think I should do this myself.  
  
He nodded, She started out, and he called to her, Miss Parker? Let me know when you find him....you know, so that I know he's okay.  
  
I will, Broots.  
  
He watched her walk out of the room, and he sat dejectedly in his chair. There should have been something more that he could do to help. But there was no way to find that which no longer existed.   
  
The man who suddenly appeared made Broots jump out of his chair, Damn, Angelo, you scared the crap out of me. Angelo just stared at Broots for a moment, and Broots softened, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, it's just....  
  
Broots, worried.....sad.  
  
Yes, I am.  
  
  
  
I'm worried about Sydney, Angelo.  
  
  
  
There was a fire yesterday in the--  
  
--Sim Lab. Bad mixture.  
  
Yeah, Angelo, that's right.  
  
Broots turned back to his computer and began punching at the keys, barely listening to the empath's babbling.  
  
Fire. Hot. Little boy scared. Sydney scared. Bad chemicals. Wrong mix. Not Sydney's fault.  
  
It took a moment to register, but then Broots whirled on Angelo, What? Angelo...what did you say?  
  
Wrong mix...  
  
No, no, no....the part about Sydney.  
  
Not Sydney's fault. Switched. He didn't know.  
  
Broots took a hold of the man's arms gently, Angelo, this is really important. How do you know that?  
  
Chem Lab.  
  
Were you there? Were you at the Chem Lab, Angelo?  
  
A crooked smile spread across the empath's face and he began to giggle. In his exasperation, Broots tightened his grip on the man's arms, causing him to shrink away.  
  
Angelo....Angelo, I'm sorry. But you have to tell me. Sydney's in trouble, and he needs our help. Can you understand that?  
  
  
  
Yes. I need to help him, Angelo; you need to tell me what you know.  
  
The empath looked down and then pulled a DSA out from his back pocket, handing it to Broots, Chem Lab.....  
  
Broots looked at the DSA, and wasted no time putting it into the player behind him.  
  
****************  
  
**St. Ignatious Catholic Church  
Blue Cove, Delaware**  
  
He didn't know why he had come. He knelt quietly in one of the last pews of the church, his soul damaged beyond repair, his mind clouded by anger, and his heart torn with grief. His hands were neatly clasped together, his elbows leaning on the pew in front of him, his head pushing against his hands. Anyone observing him might have assumed that he was devoutly praying. And in earnest, he had tried to pray. But Sydney could no longer find the words to speak to a god who had abandoned him so many times during his life.  
  
Instead, his knuckles were white from clasping his hands together so tightly, and tears ran down his face from the guilt he was trying to silence. Why he had come to a church, he didn't really know; it had not given him solace in many years. He could no longer take comfort in such a cruel deity; a deity which had allowed so many atrocities in the world. So much pain inflicted upon the innocent, at the hands of the culpable. He had been taught as a child that there was a merciful and just god watching over him; where was that god now?  
  
_That god no longer existed._ Maybe he never had.  
  
A mass was in progress, and Sydney looked up toward the altar as the priest lifted the sacrificial wine and wafer toward the heavens; and he felt anger. It was a resentment so strong, he had to look away. There could be no forgiveness for him, there could be no comfort; there was only the reality of what he had done. He slammed his eyes shut in fear, the teachings of his childhood rushing back to him in a flood of thoughts.   
  
He would be judged. His time would come, and he would have to atone for all of the sins, mortal and venial, which he had committed in his lifetime, and he would be judged harshly. Sydney felt with certainty that there was no place for him in heaven. There would be only hell. A slight smile of irony crept onto his tear stained face: _Hell._ The eternal punishment of condemnation and guilt, wielded by a cruel and unmerciful deity could hold no threat to one who was already living in his own private hell.   
  
And yet, his heart fluttered again in fear, and he pushed his head further into his folded hands, trying to hide from the bitter taste of reality. A child was dead because of him. He couldn't bear it. Not this time. There had been so much pain and heartache over the years, but this was more than he could take. If only he could trade places with the boy; he would gladly have given himself over to death in Eric's stead.  
  
The congregation stood as one, prepared to receive the blessing of the incense from the priest. Sydney couldn't move. He could smell the rising incense emanating from the burner held by the priest at the front of the church. It tickled his nose with the light scent of myrrh, and his eyes welled up with tears. He wanted to stand with his fellow sinners and receive the blessing; he wanted to feel absolved from his guilt, relieved of his pain, and wrapped in the loving arms of a kind god. But Sydney couldn't move.  
  
He didn't deserve absolution, and he knew it. How could anyone, priest or layman, god or devil release him from the guilty bondage of his actions? He would either be condemned to suffer the chains of limbo, or burn in hell forever after. It no longer mattered to him; for he had become his own judge and jury, and he knew that he would never be able to forgive himself, much less seek absolution from a god he no longer believed in.   
  
The voice from the altar caught his ears, This mass has ended, let us go in peace to love and serve the Lord.  
  
came the resounding response of the people.  
  
Peace. There was no peace, not for him. Sydney knelt, the tears rolling down his cheeks, as the priest and his congregation recessed up the aisle. The church cleared out quickly, and still he couldn't move. He continued to kneel, leaning on the pew in front of him, tears of sadness filling his eyes, and the pain of desolation gripping his heart. The gentle hand on his shoulder caused him to look up into the kind eyes of the priest who had just said mass.  
  
Are you okay, sir? Is there something I can do for you?  
  
Sydney shook his head, his voice slightly biting, He softened, remembering where he was, No, thank you, father. He looked away, I'd just like to sit here for awhile, if that's all right.  
  
The church stays open for another hour. Sydney said nothing, so the priest continued, If you need me to hear your confession--  
  
Sydney stopped him with a raised hand, his tone as sarcastic and cutting as anything the priest had ever heard, That's quite all right. I'm sure the almighty is well aware of what I've done. Sydney closed his eyes, and when the priest started away, in an impulse he grabbed the man's sleeve, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to....  
  
Sydney let go of the priest's sleeve and covered his mouth, looking away. Slowly he slipped off his knees and onto the pew.  
  
The priest sat down next to Sydney, We all need help sometimes. There's no sin in that, except the sin of pride when we refuse it.  
  
Sydney turned to the man, I appreciate the concern, father, but I'd just like to sit here for awhile, if I may.  
  
The priest nodded and stood, placing a hand on Sydney's shoulder, If you change your mind, I'm right next door in the Rectory.  
  
Sydney nodded and watched the young man walk down the aisle and disappear back into the Sacristy. He swallowed hard; there was so much pain inside of him, he didn't know what to do with it. He felt as though his heart would burst from the anguish, and at the same time, it seemed as though he would never be free of it. He leaned his arms on the pew in front of him, and his head on his arms. He felt empty. There was nothing left. Why had he come?  
  
*******************  
  
**The Centre  
Broots' Area**  
  
Broots tried her cell phone again and this time she answered.  
  
  
  
Miss Parker.  
  
Broots, what the hell do you want? I told you I'd call you as soon as I found him. I haven't found him yet.  
  
Broots could hear what sounded like a church bell ringing in the background, Uhm....Miss Parker, where are you?  
  
Never mind. What do you want?  
  
I think I've got something.  
  
Such as?  
  
A DSA with something pretty interesting on it.  
  
Well what are you waiting for Scooby Doo? Let's have it.....  
  
********************  
  
**St. Ignatious Catholic Church**  
  
Miss Parker put away her cell phone, as she observed all the people exiting the church. She had looked everywhere else, and he was nowhere to be found. It was a last ditch hope on her part, that he had come here; and of all the catholic churches in the area, she thought this one would be where he would wind up. Scouring the faces of the people, she looked for him, but he was not among them. She waited until the parishioners had dispersed, the priest had gone back inside, and the sidewalk in front of the church had cleared. She stepped out of her car, closed the door and walked across the street.  
  
She took a deep breath and grabbed the large brass handle of the tall oak door, pulling hard to open it. The first thing to hit her was a rush of air, and carried upon it, the smell of incense. It unbalanced her as a memory came rushing toward her.....  
  
**St. Ignatious Catholic Church  
April 18, 1970**  
  
Miss Parker stood to the right of her father in the front pew, as the priest swung the incense burner three times in the three directions of the church. The strong smell of myrrh hit her in the nose and for a moment she thought she might be sick, and she turned her head. Noticing that she had turned away, her father had grabbed her hard on the arm, as a reminder of where she was and how she was to behave. She looked down quickly, in fear. A moment later she felt the warm hand on the other side of her take hers, gently holding it.  
  
She never let go after that, clinging to the large hand as if it were her only lifeline. The tall man standing on her right never said a word, nor looked down at her; he merely held her hand, letting her know that she was not alone. Her father had never noticed....  
  
**St. Ignatious Catholic Church  
Present**  
  
Miss Parker shook her head, trying to clear away the unwanted cobwebs of the past which had pushed their way into her senses. It had been thirty one years, since the funeral mass for her mother had been said; thirty one years, and Miss Parker had never again set foot in this particular church. But now she had no choice.  
  
She walked past the holy water fount, and her hand reached for it, snapping back before she came into contact with the cool liquid. Her eyes filled with tears as another memory flooded her like a runaway train down a mountain track.  
  
**St. Ignatious Catholic Church  
April 17, 1970**  
  
She followed her father through the front door of the church, and watched as he dabbed the third finger of his right hand into the fount of holy water, making the sign of the cross over himself. He turned and nodded at his daughter to follow suit. Miss Parker knew what to do, she had been attending catechism classes; however as she stared into the water, she felt an irrational fear grip her. She couldn't dip her hand into it, and she didn't know why.  
  
In anger, her father, grabbed her right hand, and dunked it into the fount, leaning into her ear, I'll not have you disrespect your mother's memory at her own rosary. You know what to do, I expect you to be a Parker and do it.  
  
The tears filled up the little girl's eyes as she made the sign of the cross. Without waiting, her father opened the door leading from the vestibule, and walked toward a pew in the front of the church, Miss Parker following several paces behind. She spotted Sydney sitting a few pews in back of the one her father had chosen, and she ducked into it, sitting close to the psychiatrist. He said nothing, but she saw him sneak a sidelong glance at her, obviously wondering what she was up to.  
  
She leaned in toward him, whispering, Is it okay if I sit here with you, Sydney?  
  
His voice was soft in response, Of course, Miss Parker, but, don't you want to sit with your father? She shook her head and Sydney decided to let it go, instead changing the subject, Do you know how to pray the rosary?  
  
She nodded, her voice filled with sadness, My mommy taught me.  
  
Sydney pulled down the kneeler of their pew and knelt upon it, nodding to her to do the same. A moment later she knelt next to him.   
  
His voice was like a velvet glove, Will you say the rosary with me?  
  
The little girl nodded, fighting back the tears threatening to fall from her sad eyes.  
  
Biting her lip, she pulled a white rosary out of her pocket, the tears in her eyes finally spilling over, This was my mommy's.  
  
Without a word, Sydney reached into his pocket and extracted a very old rosary made of black wood and sterling silver. It was one of the most beautiful things Miss Parker had ever seen.  
  
He leaned in toward her, And this belonged to my mother.  
  
He smiled at her, and for the first time, a slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked up at him. A moment later, the priest stood at the lectern and a decade of the rosary began....  
  
**St. Ignatious Catholic Church  
Present**  
  
Parker snapped out of her reverie at the sound of a door closing behind her.  
  
A young man in a Roman collar approached her, I'm sorry miss, but the church is closing for the night... He noticed the tears running down her face, Are you all right?  
  
She quickly wiped her tears away, Yes, of course. They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment, then she continued, I'm looking for a man, and I was wondering if you had seen him. He's about 6'3, late fifties, greying hair, European accent....  
  
The priest nodded and in answer opened the door leading from the vestibule into the church. Parker followed the priest's gaze and saw Sydney sitting in a pew at the back, sadness surrounding him. Parker heard the sigh of relief escape from her own mouth, and embarrassed, she looked away.  
  
I take it, he's the one you're looking for?  
  
Yes.....father, I know you're trying to close up for the night, but, could you give me a few minutes with him in here?  
  
The priest looked her over and could easily read her worry, and her sincerity, he nodded, I'm going to lock the doors. Take all the time you need, but please, be sure to close the door behind you when you leave.  
  
Thank you, I appreciate it.  
  
Parker started through the door, but felt the hand on her arm, Miss, your father is holding in a lot of anger right now. An anger of such intensity only stems from the deepest wounds to the heart; wounds such as these are not likely to heal easily nor quickly.  
  
She snapped at him, He's not my-- She stopped herself; the priest was only trying to be helpful. She exhaled a breath and nodded, I'll be gentle with him.  
  
I'm not trying to tell you how to deal with your own father, I just....well, he's harbouring a lot of resentment and--  
  
--What, were you Carl Jung in your last life?  
  
The priest smiled, No, double major, religion and psych, with a philosophy minor in undergrad. My Master's Thesis was on the breaking point of the human mind.  
  
Parker glared at him, He's not at breaking point, I can assure you. He's one of the strongest men I've ever known. She moved toward the door, Thank you for the help, but if you don't mind, I'll take it from here.  
  
Good night, then...Miss?  
  
Parker. Good night.  
  
Parker didn't wait for the priest to say anything more before she walked into the church and over to the pew where Sydney dejectedly sat. His chin was leaning on his hands on the back of the pew in front of him, tears slowly rolling unchecked down his face. She sat in the pew in front of him, but he didn't seem to notice her, nor did he react when a moment later she gently stroked the back of his head.  
  
Syd? What are you doing?  
  
His eyes flicked up to hers, and the depth of desolation in them was difficult to look upon.  
  
I'm just sitting here.  
  
Yes, Sydney, that much I can see. Why?  
  
I don't know.  
  
Sydney's voice sounded lost, hollow, and it scared Parker to the core.  
  
Her timbre was as gentle as a caress, Why don't I take you home?  
  
Anger lit his eyes and he jerked his head away from the hand which was softly stroking it,   
  
Okay, all right, we'll stay here awhile then. She slowly began to run her fingers through his hair again, trying to soothe him, I haven't been here since..........  
  
He looked at her, Since your mother's funeral.  
  
She stopped stroking his hair, and looked away, But I remember this place as though it all happened yesterday.  
  
Is that why you came here?  
  
I came here to find you.  
  
What on earth made you think I would be here?  
  
Parker frowned, she hadn't really thought about it, I don't know, actually. Instinct, I guess.  
  
He sounded almost fearful, The inner sense...  
  
They sat there in silence for a few minutes, each alone with subdued thoughts.   
  
Parker finally spoke, It wasn't your fault, Syd.  
  
His voice was tight and full of sarcasm, Your mother's death? No, that wasn't....  
  
She turned to him, I wasn't talking about that, and you know it. Broots called me....he found some footage that someone tried to wipe from the mainframe. Parker kept her voice as even as possible, hoping to keep him calm, Sydney, one of Raines' sweepers went into the Chem Lab and changed the contents of the beakers you had labeled for the sim.  
  
Sydney's eyes lit up with anger, What? Who?  
  
The new guy, Jack-whatever-his-name-is... I'm sure Nosferatu is going to disavow any knowledge of this, but--  
  
--Are you telling me that Raines killed a child for the sole purpose of setting me up?  
  
  
  
--No...I'm going to kill him. Sydney stood up and yelled toward the altar, I swear to any fucking god that thinks it's all powerful, I'm going to kill the man, and I don't give a damn what price I have to pay for it!  
  
He began walking toward the altar, picking up speed as he moved down the aisle. Parker's fear of what he was about to do was the only thing that jarred her out of the shocked state she was in. She got up and ran toward him, just as he was preparing to damage a side altar dedicated to the Blessed Virgin.   
  
Parker grabbed him from behind, holding him back, Sydney...what the hell is wrong with you? He continued to struggle against her, and after a moment, broke from her grasp, Sydney, no......  
  
Parker threw her body weight at him, knocking them both down hard, onto the marble floor. He fought her off, but she grabbed the collar of his jacket, pushing his head into the floor, and shoved her knee into the middle of his back, causing him to wince in pain.  
  
She leaned into his ear, Stop it, Sydney. Just calm down. After a moment, he stopped moving, and she let go of his jacket and removed her knee, Calm down, Syd.  
  
He lay so still for a moment, that her heart skipped a beat. Parker gently helped him up, and leaned him against the nearest pew. His nose was bleeding, but he didn't seem to care. She pulled the handkerchief from his left inside pocket where he always kept it, and the black and silver rosary she remembered seeing thirty one years before, fell onto the floor. She looked at him, but he just leaned his head back against the wooden pew, swallowing hard. Parker carefully picked up the rosary, and taking his hand, gently pressed it into his palm.  
  
She took his handkerchief and held it to his nose, I'm sorry, Syd, I didn't mean to hurt you; but I needed to stop you.  
  
  
  
Because Sydney, you were about to do something that I know you would have regretted later.  
  
No, I wouldn't have.  
  
He stood up and began walking toward the back of the church. Parker walked a few paces behind him, until finally, he stopped. He didn't turn, he just stopped. Parker ceased moving, and waited, but he said nothing. Slowly, she walked past him and stood in front of him. Tears flowed down his face, mingling with the blood from his nose. She tried to wipe it, but he brushed her hand away.  
  
I know you're upset, Syd, and you have every right to be, but--  
  
--Just stop right there. It's not going to work this time. Her eyes darted to his and the train left the station, I have stayed with the Centre, and kept quiet all these years because of Jarod, Angelo and--  
  
  
  
Yes, you. The Centre has taken everything from me, and now there is fresh blood on my hands thanks to Mr. Raines--  
  
--Sydney, you're not responsible. You're just upset, and god knows--  
  
He grabbed her and pushed her into the back wall, --You don't know the first thing about how I feel, much less what I have the _right_ to feel, nor what _is_ or is _not_ my fault. And god doesn't know a fucking thing. Don't you understand Parker? There is no god. It's just another damned fairy tale we're taught to believe in when we're young, like St. Nicholas and the Easter Bunny. Only this fairy tale of faith betrays us in our greatest times of need, and punishes us for acting upon what is simply human nature.  
  
Parker's eyes filled with fear. It was Sydney's face and Sydney's voice, but it was someone else speaking; this wasn't the man she had known her entire life.  
  
She took his face in her hands, Sydney.....I know you don't believe that. Syd.....?  
  
He looked into the eyes of the little girl he knew, There is no absolution for me Parker. Not for what I've done, for what I've allowed, for what I haven't done..... He swallowed hard, Not even god......  
  
His voice trailed off, and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. He closed his eyes, and sank to his knees in the despair of the truth that had become his reality. His entire life had become a study of betrayal, guilt and cowardice; leaving a string of death, pain and abandonment behind.   
  
A sob escaped his lips, He was just a little boy.....  
  
Parker closed her eyes, trying to quell her own rising emotions, but the pain in his voice brought the tears anyway.  
  
I'm sorry, his voice was barely a whisper, Please god forgive me.....  
  
The rosary she had put in his hand, once again fell to the floor. Parker knelt next to him, and picked it up. Taking his hand in hers, she pressed it to his palm, and leaned her forehead against his.  
  
Will you say the rosary with me, Syd? He started to shake his head no, but she cupped his face with her hands, Please Sydney. Her voice grew softer, For my mother, and for yours.  
  
He could only nod then, and Parker turned him gently to face the altar. Tentatively, she took his hand in hers, and placing the rosary in their joined hands, their voices rose like incense, in prayer.  
  
Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, they will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.....  
  
fin  
  
  



	2. 

Incense Rising Part II

THE PRETENDER   
"Incense Rising Part II"   
by the lurker  
  
**St. Ignatious Catholic Church**  
  
The morning mass was just finishing when she pulled up alongside the curb across the street: He was standing there greeting parishioners as they left the church. She took a deep breath, stepped out of her car and walked across the street, never taking her eyes off of him.   
  
He smiled when he saw her, "Miss Parker, this is somewhat of a surprise. I was under the impression that you weren't very fond of churches."  
  
She returned the smile, "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name last night..."  
  
He extended his hand, "Fr. Thomas Rausch, S.J., at your service, although most people call me Fr. Tom."  
  
"S.J., as in a Jesuit?"  
  
"Yeah, you have something against Jesuits too?"  
  
She laughed, "Not particularly, I just didn't think they usually let you guys administer a parish."  
  
"They don't normally." His smile widened, "I'm a special case."  
  
"Hmm, I'll bet you are."  
  
"I take it that this isn't exactly a social, nor a spiritual call, Miss Parker. How can I help you?"  
  
She looked down, then back up at him, "You were very kind last night, and I was a little--"  
  
"--Snappish?"  
  
She frowned, "No, I wasn't snappish, I was just--"  
  
"--Rude?"  
  
Her frown turned into a glare, "No, father, let's just say that I was less than personable and leave it at that." He nodded, and so she continued, "I wanted to ask your advice on a matter."  
  
"About your father?"  
  
"Sydney isn't my father. He's more like the crazy uncle you're afraid all your friends will discover sitting in your living room when you're in high school, you know?"  
  
"Hrmph, I would have put money on the two of you as father and daughter."  
  
"Well, we're not. Look, last night you indicated that you thought he was possibly on the edge; at the time, I didn't necessarily agree, but....."  
  
"Has something happened?"  
  
"Not exactly, no."  
  
You're just concerned?  
  
Yes, and I was hoping.....  
  
He nodded, "That I could help you out. She nodded and he moved along, Everyone has his breaking point, Miss Parker, no matter how strong of an individual he may normally be, if pushed to his limits, a man's mind can break. It's a fragile thing, the psyche; put too much of the right kinds of pressure on it, and it can snap like a twig. Your fath-- I mean, Sydney, seemed wound pretty tightly. I could see it in his eyes, the betrayal, the hurt; and it's a hurt that's been building for quite some time."  
  
"So you're saying that given the right stress, he could go over the edge?"  
  
"I'm saying that given the right circumstances, anyone can; it's solely dependent upon the vulnerability of the individual at the time, and how much stress is being placed upon him."  
  
"What can I do to help him?"  
  
"I'd get him into therapy with a psychiatrist."  
  
Parker began laughing and the priest just stared at her, "I'm sorry, it's just....Sydney _is_ a psychiatrist."  
  
"Oh. They can be the toughest and most stubborn of patients. Just judging by what little contact I had with him last night, I think he can use some help right now."  
  
Parker nodded, "I'm sure he must have a therapist...don't all of you head doctors have to see other head doctors as part of your....psych thing?"  
  
He laughed, Yes. If you need a recommendation though, I'll be happy to give you one.  
  
She returned the smile, Thank you Fr. Rausch, I do appreciate the time.  
  
"It's Fr. Tom, and you're welcome. Miss Parker, if there's anything else I can do, let me know."  
  
"Thanks....."  
  
He watched her walk across the street and get into her car. He shook his head at himself, he really had thought the two of them were related. A small smile curved his lips; whether they realized it or not, at least on an emotional level, Parker and Sydney _were_ father and daughter. If anyone would be able to help the man out of the dark hole he was slowly crawling into, it would most likely be Miss Parker. Fr. Tom just hoped that she wouldn't wait too long.  
  
******************  
  
**The Centre**  
  
Parker paced nervously in the lobby near the main entrance of the Centre. She glanced again at her watch, he was almost always in by 9am; his tardiness was serving to make her even more ill at ease. Her earlier confrontation with Raines had, as she suspected, confirmed his duplicity, although he denied knowing that his new sweeper Jack had replaced the contents of Sydney's sim beakers in the Chem lab. In response to his actions, Jack was currently in the Tower, facing a T-board. A small smile curled Parker's mouth; at least Jack was going to be toast.  
  
The deep voice from right behind her made her jump, "Angel, why are you loitering in the lobby?"  
  
She turned, plastering an innocent smile on her face, "I'm not loitering Daddy, I'm just--"  
  
"--Waiting for Sydney?"  
  
She glared, "Why would I do that?"  
  
"For the same reason that I'm down here; you're scared to death of what the man might do."  
  
"That's nonsense, Daddy," her eyes shifted away, trying to cover her own lack of conviction, "Sydney isn't going to do anything crazy."   
  
"Uh-huh," Parker uttered, nonplussed.  
  
"And if you suspect that he might, why haven't you posted a sweeper team?"  
  
Mr. Parker changed the subject, "Exactly how did the Triumvirate get its hands on that footage from the Chem Lab so quickly?"  
  
She smiled, "I had it emailed to them last night."  
  
Parker frowned, "You shouldn't have done that, Angel."  
  
"Why the hell not? A little boy died, and Sydney was set up to take the blame for it, did you think I was going to stand by and let it happen?"  
  
Parker glanced toward the glass doors of the main entrance, then grabbed his daughter by the elbow and pulled her into an alcove, "I told you to stay out of this."  
  
Her eyes were ablaze with anger, "Stay out of _what_, Daddy?"  
  
Mr. Parker looked away, inhaling deeply, "There are more things in play than you realize, with a lot more at stake than just--"  
  
She stared at him, her eyes filled with disbelief as it dawned upon her, "More things at stake than just Sydney and Eric?"  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"But you were going to."  
  
"Listen to me; Mr. Raines has been out of control for several years--"  
  
"--Ya think?--"  
  
He ignored her and continued, "--And I've needed the right circumstance under which I could prove to the Triumvirate once and for all that Raines needs to be taken down."  
  
"So you allowed him to kill a child?"  
  
"No," his voice was filled with ire, "I had no idea he would go this far. The only thing I was going to allow was--"  
  
"--The destruction of Sydney."  
  
He had to look away, as the hurt in his daughter's eyes penetrated his tough exterior, driving itself like a stake into his heart.  
  
He took her arms, "There was no alternative. I couldn't let Raines come after you or me, and it needed to be someone with a little clout, someone who has been with the Centre for thirty years or more. Sydney was the best choice."  
  
Her tone carried the full weight of her anger, "So you just helped Raines along with the idea that Sydney was standing in his way, and indicated that you would turn a blind eye, if something happened?"  
  
"Yes. I should have anticipated that Raines would attempt to get me in the process."  
  
"And Eric paid the price for your little game."  
  
Pain flickered in Mr. Parker's eyes, his voice merely a whisper, "That was extremely unfortunate." He changed the subject, I take it that Sydney isn't handling this very well....  
  
"What did you expect?"  
  
Parker nodded, "You were of great comfort to him last night at the church, I hope you know that."  
  
Her eyes darted up, piercing his, "You had me followed."  
  
"Actually--"  
  
"--You had Sydney followed?" He looked away from her, she touched his cheek, "You were worried."  
  
He nodded, "There was some concern that he might....do something rash."  
  
The nickel finally dropped for her, "You're working with someone from the Triumvirate."  
  
He smiled, "I'll leave Sydney to you. For now. Just make sure that you can keep him under control."  
  
Before she could say another word, he was gone. And that's when it hit her; her father had distracted her for a reason. Sydney was probably already in the building. She bolted toward the stairs and headed for Mr. Raines' office, hoping she wasn't already too late.  
  
****************  
  
He had thought it through, and come to the conclusion that something had to be done; and he should be the one to do it. He had watched Raines torment those around him and stayed silent for more than thirty years; it was more than enough. Sydney would finally rid them all, of the menace. His long stride carried him quickly down the corridor, toward Mr. Raines. He could feel the beads of sweat begin to trickle down his face, and his heart began to pound in his chest, as he approached the man's office.  
  
He threw the door open, and reached for the left inside breast pocket of his jacket.  
  
Parker yelled, "Sydney! No!"  
  
He felt her arms forcefully wrap around him from behind, effectively pinning his right arm against his chest, preventing him from pulling the 9mm out of his pocket. He heard the cocking of several guns and realized that while Raines stood quietly behind his desk smiling, there were sweepers standing all throughout the room, pointing their weapons at his head.  
  
Miss Parker spoke softly into his ear, "Not like this, Sydney. Not this way."  
  
Slowly Parker pulled Sydney backward, toward the door, all the while watching the sweepers. She kept his arms pinned, not trusting that despite the odds, he wouldn't pull his gun out anyway. Sydney maintained eye contact with Raines, the two of them staring each other down.  
  
"You'd better watch your step, Sydney," Raines rasped, "Miss Parker won't always be around the corner, ready to save your ass."  
  
Sydney didn't respond, and Parker dragged him through the door and out into the corridor, where she roughly tossed him into the nearest wall.  
  
"Doc Holliday you are not......What the fuck is the matter with you?" She reached into his inside pocket and yanked out the 9mm, slamming it against the wall next to his head, "Answer me god damnit, you almost got yourself killed."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
"Well I do."  
  
His voice softened, "He doesn't deserve to live."  
  
"Who appointed you judge, jury and executioner?"  
  
He pushed away from the wall, and began walking down the corridor, "Someone needs to be...."  
  
"Playing god wasn't something I ever thought I'd accuse you of doing, Syd." He kept walking, and her anger overtook her, "Sort of puts you in the same league with Raines and Dr. Krieg, don't you think?"  
  
He stopped walking and turned to face her, "What?"  
  
"You've turned into exactly what you feared when you were a little boy, haven't you?"  
  
Parker swallowed hard as the brown eyes staring into hers turned black as coal. The venom which began to fill him was as dark as anything Parker had ever seen, and a momentary panic turned her stomach. The rage she was sensing from him caused her to recoil, fearing that he might actually turn on her.   
  
But then, her bravada returned, "You were going to kill the man in cold blood, Sydney. What does that say about you?"  
  
"So you're Sydney," the quiet voice behind him stated.  
  
Sydney and Parker turned to look at the small woman in her early forties, who had appeared in the hallway behind them.  
  
Sydney spoke softly, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"  
  
"I'm Mrs. Maisel. Eric talked about you non stop, as if you were god almighty himself."  
  
Sydney felt his stomach lurch. He blinked, trying to comprehend what the woman was doing in the corridor outside Raines' office. It was Parker who recovered first.  
  
"Mrs. Maisel, I'm Miss Parker, I'm very sorry about your son."  
  
Maisel ignored Parker altogether, staying focused upon the object of her hatred, "I had to come here to see for myself, what kind of man could kill a little boy who worshipped him. What the hell kind of place is this? What kind of man are you that you allowed it?"  
  
Parker tried to keep her voice neutral, "Mrs. Maisel, I think there has been some kind of mis--"  
  
Sydney stopped Parker with a hand on her arm. Mrs. Maisel took a step closer to him, staring into his eyes.  
  
"Eric's father died when he was a baby; you were the only adult male figure in his life. He trusted you, he looked up to you. And you killed him. What kind of monster are you?" Tears flowed down her face and she took another step toward Sydney, "Don't just stand there, _say _something...."  
  
Sydney couldn't speak; he couldn't even move. Mrs. Maisel lunged at him, pounding her fists into his chest hysterically.  
  
"You bastard! You should have died, not my son. Are you even sorry? Can't you feel _anything_? I hope god strikes you down, and makes you burn in hell."  
  
Miss Parker pulled the woman off Sydney just as Sam and a sweeper team arrived in the hallway.  
  
"Sam, could you please escort Mrs. Maisel out of the building, and see that she gets home safely?"  
  
"Yes, Miss Parker."  
  
Mrs. Maisel continued to scream at Sydney as Sam took her away. Parker turned back to Sydney, whose face had turned ashen.  
  
"Syd? You okay?"  
  
Sydney still couldn't speak. His eyes were filled with unshed tears, and he was pulling in short gasps of breath.  
  
She stroked his face gently, "Come on, I think you should lie down for a little while, you don't look so good."  
  
She tried to take his hand, but he jerked it away from her, "No. I don't......just.....just leave me alone."  
  
Sydney turned abruptly and made a hasty retreat in the opposite direction of the corridor.  
  
"Sydney?"  
  
Parker almost followed him, but then thought better of it; common sense told her that maybe a little time alone was the best thing for him. Her inner sense, however, began to scream its dissent, loudly.....  
  
***************  
  
**Sydney's House**  
  
He continued to pace the length of the dining room, up and back, up and back; just as he had done for the past six hours. He felt immense agitation, and total helplessness. He was responsible for the death of a child who had been entrusted to his care. Sydney gripped the edge of the table as another wave of anguish rippled through him. How had his life come to this? Eric was a small, gifted boy; a child who had depended upon Sydney to protect him. And Sydney had failed miserably.   
  
_It was the legacy of his entire life: Failure and Betrayal._  
  
He slammed his eyes shut against the still fresh images of the little boy lying dead on the floor of the Sim Lab. His mind replaced Eric's face with Jarod's, and Sydney cried in distress at the thought of it. It could easily have been Jarod all those years ago during any one of a number of sims. Sydney's mind flashed through the most painful moments of his life in fast succession, as though he were flipping quickly through an old photo album.   
  
He watched helplessly as Dr. Krieg injected his brother Jacob with an experimental drug, the younger of the two twins screaming for Sydney to help him. He had been powerless to aid Jacob, no matter how hard Sydney struggled against the SS officer who restrained him, he could not break free. His mind flashed to the night of the accident; Jacob lying near death on the side of the road in the pouring rain, and Sydney powerless to help him. But unlike Dachau, he knew that the accident had been his responsibility.  
  
Sydney pushed away from the dining room table, and fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face, "Why.....?"  
  
Jarod's face sparkled before him again, crying for Sydney to rescue him from a sim. But Sydney was trapped behind a glass barrier, a sweeper team restraining him. The smiling face of Dr. William Raines appeared in the reflection of the glass, laughing, his voice echoing through Sydney's head.  
  
"You will do as I tell you, Sydney, or I will remove you from the pretender project, and you will never see Jarod again."  
  
Sydney tried to shut it out, but the memories were coming too fast, like tidal waves pounding onto the shores of his defenseless mind. Michelle's tear stained face appeared to him; she had been confronted with losing their infant son, and she had braved it alone. He should have been there with her, with them. Sydney had failed wretchedly in his life to protect those he loved, everyone who had depended upon him, he had let down; the depths of his own deficiency began to hit him like an out of control storm.  
  
Catherine Parker's face shimmered before him, "Take care of my little girl, Sydney......"  
  
He placed the St. Christopher medal in her hand, kissing it, _knowing _he would never see her again. Young Miss Parker loomed before him then, crying inconsolably at her mother's funeral. And there was nothing Sydney could do; he couldn't protect her from facing death, any more than he could take away her pain.  
  
Nicholas materialized, glaring at him, "I don't know who I am. How could you have lied to me?"  
  
His son's visage walked away from him. And Sydney had to let him go, feeling powerless to stop any of the images which were assaulting him at rapid fire speed. Jarod replaced Nicholas' face, and the confusion in it pulled at the psychiatrist's heart.  
  
"I loved you like a father, Sydney....how could you have tossed me away?"  
  
The image of Jarod's empty room at the Centre, filled his mentor's mind. Jarod was gone, and he was never coming back. Sydney had lost him, just as he had lost those he had loved; and all of it of his own making, because of his own weaknesses. He had never been the man they wanted, nor the man they had needed. They had all deserved far better than he; and _that_ truth inflicted a wound to him that he knew could not be mended.   
  
Miss Parker's words pounded through his head, _"You've turned into exactly what you feared when you were a little boy, haven't you?"_  
  
The image of Krieg floated through his mind; he tried to shake it away, but it kept coming at him. Sydney grabbed his head in pain, willing the man to leave him alone.   
  
Krieg advanced closer, laughing at him, "You think you are any different from me? You are not. I know what you've done; I know the work that you have continued to do. God also knows what you are, and you will be judged for it Sydney, no less harshly than I."  
  
Sydney cried out, "No!"  
  
And still the images of his past taunted him, all of them accusing him at once.   
  
"How could you leave me, Sydney? How could you let them take away your family?"  
  
"I needed you, Sydney, and you let the Centre have me...."  
  
"You promised that you would look after my little girl; why is she still at the Centre?"  
  
"I loved you, Sydney, but you threw me away...."  
  
Eric joined them, "I trusted you, Sydney. How could you let them kill me?"  
  
"Stop! Please, stop...."  
  
Sydney slammed his head into the table repeatedly, until blood flowed from a large gash above his right eyebrow. And then the world went dark, and at last, only silence filled his mind.  
  
******************  
  
**The Centre   
SL-11**  
  
It wasn't too late. He could still make it up to the boy. He knew the child had been disappointed at his mentor's lack of reaction to the card, but there was still time to make it up to him. He moved quickly down the corridor, and was surprised that he saw no one else. He held the package tightly in his hand, grinning slightly too himself, imagining the smile it would bring to the child's face when he opened it.  
  
He rounded the corner and stopped short; the door to the room was standing open. _It was standing wide open, and it shouldn't have been._ Something was wrong. Sydney ran the last few feet and rushed into the room: It was completely empty. Not only was there no sign of Jarod, there was no furniture in the room. His feet suddenly felt nailed to the floor, the shock quickly moving over him. What had Raines done with the child?  
  
Sydney turned to leave, and was stopped short by a sweeper team he didn't know. His anger overpowered his own fear, and his voice was filled with command.  
  
"Where is he?"   
  
The sweepers looked at each other in slight confusion, but none of them answered.  
  
Sydney's voice demanded again, "Where the hell is he? What have you done with him?"  
  
One of the sweepers took a cautious step into the room, "Calm down, doctor."  
  
"Don't tell me to calm down. What has Raines done? Who the hell are _you _anyway?"  
  
The sweeper frowned, "Doctor, it's me, it's Sam."  
  
There was not even slight recognition in Sydney's eyes, "Look, just tell me what you've done with the boy."  
  
Sam turned to another sweeper, lowering his voice, "Hugh, I'm going to call Miss Parker, keep him in here." He turned toward Sydney, "Just take it easy, I'm going to get someone down here who can answer your questions."  
  
Sam walked out of the room, as Hugh and the rest of the sweepers stepped in, causing Sydney to retreat toward the back wall, dropping the package in his hands to the floor.  
  
Sam picked up the wall phone in the hallway and punched in an extension. After a moment, an annoyed voice answered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Miss Parker, it's Sam. Sydney arrived a few minutes ago, we picked him up in the main lobby and followed him. He made a beeline for Sl-11."  
  
"Sl-11? What the hell is he doing down there?"  
  
"Miss Parker, he seems disoriented, he doesn't recognize me at all. And he's asking what happened to some kid; I think he means Jarod. Something's really wrong."  
  
Parker swallowed hard, "Keep him there, Sam. I'll be right down."  
  
Sam hung up the phone and released a huge sigh of air, as he walked back into the room. Sydney was standing with his back up against the wall, fear filling his eyes.   
  
Sam tried to make his voice as even as possible, "Relax, doctor, no one's going to hurt you. Miss Parker is on her way."  
  
Sydney's eyes flicked up to Sam's at the mention of Parker's name, and the sweeper felt slightly relieved; at least the doctor recognized something. He took a tentative step toward Sydney, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, intending to clean up the deep cut on the man's forehead, but stopped when he read the panic on Sydney's face.  
  
Sam held up his hands in acquiescence, "Take it easy, I just wanted to check that cut on your head, it looks pretty bad."  
  
Sydney ran a hand across his brow and wiped away some blood, "I'm fine."  
  
Miss Parker walked into the room, stopping about halfway between the door and the back wall, "Sydney, what are you doing?"  
  
The relief in Sydney's voice was obvious, "Thank god....do you know where they've taken him?"  
  
Parker frowned at him, "Taken who, Syd?"  
  
His face filled with confusion, "Jarod. Where have they taken Jarod?"  
  
She walked slowly toward him, "Sydney, Jarod's been gone for five years. You know that."  
  
Panic flecked the brown eyes, "Gone? What do you mean gone? He was just here yesterday....he gave me--" He stopped himself when he saw the way she was looking at him. His voice turned to a whisper, "Catherine, what's going on?"  
  
Parker's eyes widened, "Catherine? Sydney, it's me, Miss Parker, Catherine's daughter."  
  
He stared at her, "What kind of game is this?"  
  
The full force of the situation began to dawn on Parker, and she cautiously moved closer to him, "This isn't a game, Syd. My mother....my mother is dead. She died a long time ago, you know that."  
  
He swallowed hard, "Raines has gotten to you, hasn't he? Why Catherine? Why would you betray me?"  
  
"Syd, I haven't betrayed you, I promise you."  
  
"Then where the hell is Jarod? Tell me!"  
  
She bit down on her lower lip slightly, thinking, "What year is it Sydney?" He stared at her as if she had lost her mind, and she continued, "Just humour me, okay. Tell me what year this is."  
  
"1968."  
  
Parker let out a breath of air, smiled gently at Sydney and turned to Sam, "Okay.....Sam, I want you to get Broots down here, and then I need you to find out where Raines is, and......."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Make sure he stays away from the lobby and the garage for the next twenty minutes or so. If he gets wind of this, Sydney's toast." He nodded and started to leave, she grabbed his jacket, "And Sam....if anything goes wrong, and anyone at the Centre finds out that Sydney is a few fries short of a happy meal today, I'm blaming you. You got me?"  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
"Okay, go, and take the rest of your team with you."  
  
"Miss Parker, are you sure--"  
  
"--I can handle Sydney, just get Broots, and do what I told you."  
  
Sam nodded and left, taking the rest of the sweepers with him. Parker turned back to Sydney, and tried to smile reassuringly.  
  
"It's going to be okay, Syd."  
  
He stared at her, saying nothing, but the distrust in his eyes was apparent. Parker spotted the package on the floor, and bent down, picking it up.  
  
"What this?"  
  
He looked away, "Something for Jarod."  
  
Her eyes filled slightly, and she blinked away the emotion, "We'll have to make sure that he gets it then, won't we?"  
  
He looked at her, hard, his eyes still unsure. Parker walked toward him slowly, holding the package out for him to reclaim. Gently he took it from her, and then she moved closer, standing a few feet from him.  
  
"That cut on your head's gotta hurt, Syd, maybe we should clean it up a little, huh?"  
  
"It's fine."  
  
She could sense his lack of faith in her, "Syd, you can trust me, you know that."  
  
His big brown eyes blinked at her, and it created an image of how he must have looked as a little boy hoping for someone to help him out of the hell called Dachau. It hurt her to think of it.   
  
She reached her hand out toward him, "I'm going to help you, Syd, I promise you."  
  
His voice was soft, vulnerable, "I don't understand what's going on...."  
  
Broots walked in carrying a paper bag, and Sydney darted toward the corner, an irrational fear gripping him.   
  
Parker stopped Broots with a hand, "I don't know how much Sam told you--"  
  
"--Nothing. Just that you needed me, and it was urgent." Broots stared at the man glaring at him, "Syd, you okay?"  
  
"Who the hell are you?" He turned to Parker, "Who the hell is he?"  
  
"Syd, it's me, it's Broots--"  
  
"He isn't quite himself today, Scooby Doo, so, just be patient and non threatening as possible; he's got the nerves of a spooked colt in a thunder storm." She looked down at the tech, who was gripping a paper bag to his chest, "Couldn't go anywhere without your brown paper bag?"  
  
"I was about to eat lunch, Miss Parker."  
  
"Little early, isn't it?"  
  
"I was hungry."  
  
Parker rolled her eyes at Broots, and turned back toward Sydney, "Sydney, Broots is a friend. He's going to help us out a little."  
  
Once again, she extended her hand toward the psychiatrist, "Come on, come with me." He glared at her, and she softened her voice, "Sydney, I'm going to take you to someone who can help you."  
  
"Will you take me to Jarod?"  
  
"Syd--"  
  
He pleaded with her, "--Catherine, please....."  
  
Broots started to open his mouth, but was silenced when he saw the look on Parker's face. She closed the distance to Sydney, and stood very close to him, taking his hand in hers, she placed her other on his chest.  
  
"Listen to your heart, Syd, what does it tell you?"  
  
His eyes searched hers, and for the first time, Parker saw a flash of the man she knew.  
  
"That I should trust you."  
  
She nodded, "Yes. Come on, Broots, don't just stand there catching flies in your mouth." She tossed the keys she pulled from her pocket to the tech, "You drive."  
  
Broots leaned in toward her as they walked toward the elevators, "Where are we going?"  
  
"St. Ignatious Church."  
  
"You think a priest can fix this?"  
  
A particular one, yes.  
  
Parker stabbed the up button, calling the elevator. She felt the tremor in Sydney's hand and glanced up into his face; all the colour had drained from it, and he looked as though a strong wind might blow him over.  
  
"Syd?"  
  
"I don't want to go to St. Ignatious."  
  
"Why not?'  
  
"I don't know. I just....I don't want to go there."  
  
The elevator car arrived, and Sydney was shaking with an irrational fear that Parker knew she couldn't combat.   
  
She gripped his hand tighter, "It's all right, we won't take you there, then." Broots glanced at her questioningly as they stepped onto the elevator, "I'm sure I can bring the mountain to Mohammed, Broots."  
  
"Around here it's a daily occurrence," the tech muttered.  
  
The doors to the elevator closed and Sydney began to hyperventilate. Parker grabbed the paper bag Broots was holding, and upended it, dumping all the bag's contents onto the floor.  
  
"Miss Parker--"  
  
"--Shut up, Spanky." He glared at her, "Would you rather see Syd asphyxiate?"  
  
Broots said nothing as he watched Parker press the bag to Sydney's mouth, while stroking the back of his head with her other hand.  
  
"Breath slowly, Sydney. You'll be fine."  
  
She hoped that her words sounded more convincing than they felt.  
  
*****************  
  
Raines looked up casually from the file he was perusing as Parker burst through his office door, "What do you want, Mr. Parker?"  
  
Parker stalked up to the other side of the desk and leaned down on it, "What do you think you're doing?"  
  
Raines smiled, "I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"I've just come from the Tower, Raines. You've implicated my daughter in this mess."  
  
Raines stood, still smiling, "I had to do something to get your attention."  
  
"Well you've got it. What do you want?"  
  
"A truce."  
  
Parker laughed, "I've still got the upper hand, Raines--"  
  
Raines tossed an envelope in front of Parker, "--Not anymore."  
  
Parker rifled through the surveillance photos of his daughter smuggling Sydney out of the building, "So what? This proves nothing."  
  
"It doesn't need to; it only matters what it looks like, and it looks like your daughter is protecting the man who killed an innocent child during a reckless experiment. Perhaps she's covering his mistakes daily, who's to say?"   
  
"Jack Carnes switched the chemicals, the Triumvirate knows that."  
  
"But you and I both know that the Triumvirate will hold Sydney ultimately responsible for the child's death; it was his sim and his lab. There's no reason that this can't work in both our favours, don't you agree?" Parker said nothing, so Raines continued, "What I'm wondering is how long you think you can hide your pay off to Jack Carnes." Parker's eyes darted to Raines, and the latter smiled, "Yes, I know all about it, Parker. The man's mother and sisters were dirt poor, eating out of garbage cans until about two weeks ago, when they suddenly turned up in Buenos Aires living like queens. I'm sure the man was more than willing to take the wrap in exchange for his family's comfort and safety."  
  
"And we're back to, what do you want?"  
  
"Sydney. The man has been a thorn in both our sides for more than thirty years. He will continue to stand in the way of the work that we can accomplish here; that's exactly why you were more than willing to sacrifice him in order to get to me. You've only kept him on this long because of your daughter, and we both know it."  
  
"Get to the point, Raines."  
  
"You side with me on this to the Triumvirate; we pin it on Sydney, which won't be very difficult, now that he's gone over the edge."  
  
"Yes, thanks to you."  
  
"I thought Mrs. Maisel was a nice touch," Raines purred, smiling.  
  
"How much did she cost you?"  
  
"Less than Jack Carnes cost you, Parker."  
  
Parker smiled like a shark; Raines still didn't realize that he was still missing a large piece of the puzzle, "What do I get in return for my cooperation?"  
  
"I will owe you a very large favour, Mr. Parker."  
  
"And my daughter?"  
  
"I can smooth that over with the Triumvirate. Are we agreed?"  
  
"Yes, agreed."  
  
Parker moved toward the door and then turned back, "Raines, if the truth ever comes out about the boy--"  
  
"--It won't."  
  
"For your sake, it had better not."  
  
Parker pulled the door open and left as quickly as he had come, leaving Raines to ponder the threat, and knowing that what Raines didn't realize about Sydney in all this was so much the better for Mr. Parker's position.  
  
*****************  
  
**Lincoln Towncar**  
  
Broots opened all the windows, trying in vain to air out the car. Miss Parker sat in the back seat with Sydney, holding the bag for him as he continued to be violently ill.   
  
The assault stopped momentarily, and he leaned his head on Parker's shoulder, "I'm sorry...."  
  
She rubbed her hand in gentle circles on his back, "It's okay, Syd, just try and relax."  
  
"I don't know what's wrong, this has never happened to me before."  
  
"It's a panic attack, Sydney. You've been under a lot of stress lately, and it's catching up with you, that's all."  
  
"I'm so confused. Nothing looks the way it's supposed to.... everything feels wrong somehow."  
  
"It's all going to be okay, try not to worry."  
  
He dove for the bag again, and Parker barely got it to his mouth in time. She noticed that Broots was looking a little pallid.  
  
"Please tell me that you're not a sympathetic puker, Jughead."  
  
"Not usually, but damn....."  
  
"If I can hold the bag from back here, Broots, you can drive from up there."  
  
The choking sounds next to her recaptured her attention.  
  
She stroked the back of his head trying to soothe him, "Easy now, Syd....try and stay calm." She growled once more at Broots, "Can't you go any faster, Spanky?"  
  
*****************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
His eyelids felt heavy, but he forced them open anyway. He recognized the concerned dark grey eyes staring at him; Catherine Parker.   
  
"Sydney?"  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"You passed out."  
  
He looked around the room, and realized that he was in bed, "How did I get here?"  
  
He reached for the bandage on his forehead and Parker swatted his hand away, "Broots helped me get you up here, and don't touch that."  
  
"Broots? Oh yeah, that new fellow you introduced me to earlier. Catherine, how do you know he's trustworthy?"  
  
Parker sighed, "I told you, Syd, he's a friend. And another friend is coming here later. His name is Thomas, and he's going to help you." Something sparked in his eyes, and Parker pushed him, "Sydney? What?"  
  
"It's....nothing really. I just....there was something familiar about the way you said his name."  
  
Parker looked down, realizing that somewhere in the worm fight that was Sydney's mind, he knew her, and he remembered _her_ Thomas.   
  
She ran a hand across his brow, "I used to know someone else with that name. When Fr. Tom gets here, Syd--"  
  
"_Father_ Tom? This man is a priest?"  
  
"Yes, but he's also--"  
  
"--I don't want to talk to a priest. I have nothing to confess..."  
  
He was quickly reaching an agitated state, and Parker wanted to avoid a repeat of the panic attack from earlier, "He's not exactly a priest, Syd, he's uhm.....well, he's a Jesuit, and he's also a psychiatrist."  
  
"Now you're telling me that Jesuits aren't priests?"  
  
"Well, not in the normal sense of the word." He looked at her dubiously, and she smiled, "Okay, he's still a priest, but Syd, he's a Jesi...how bad can it be? Besides Freud, he speaks your language."  
  
"What language would that be?"  
  
"Psycho babble. You two will get along just fine."  
  
"Why did you call me Freud?"  
  
Parker tapped the end of his nose with her finger, "Because it's what I always call you; you just don't remember that right now."  
  
He looked into her eyes, "I remember you, Catherine."  
  
"Yes, I know you remember her." She stood up, and kissed his forehead, "Get some rest, I'll wake you when Fr. Tom gets here."  
  
His voice had hints of sleepiness in it, "I don't want to talk to him."  
  
"But you're going to humour me, aren't you?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Go to sleep, Freud."  
  
"Stop calling me that."  
  
"No."  
  
His eyes closed and Parker quietly left the room, closing the door behind her. She walked downstairs and into the living room, where Broots was sitting.  
  
"How's he doing?"  
  
"Aside from the fact that he's pale, worn out, got a gash the size of Massachusetts on his forehead, thinks it's 1968, and that I'm my mother, he's fine."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Parker looked out the window, and the glint of chrome caught her eyes. She moved closer, surveying the street; three black Lincoln towncars.  
  
"Damnit."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sweepers."  
  
"What do you think that means?"  
  
"I haven't a clue, Broots, other than to tell you that it can't possibly be good."  
  
She picked up the phone and the worry in Broots' voice was clear, "Who're you calling?"  
  
"My father...."  
  
The deep voice answered on the other end of the line, "Yes?"  
  
"Daddy."  
  
"Angel, where are you?"  
  
"I'm at home, Daddy, wondering why they are three sweeper teams parked outside my house."  
  
There was a momentary silence on the other end, then, "Sweetheart, things are a little sticky around here. Look, I know Sydney's with you, why don't you just bring him in, and we'll--"  
  
"--Bring him in? No way. Raines will send him to the wolves, Daddy."  
  
"We all know what happened this morning."  
  
"Sam told you?"  
  
"No, he didn't have to; after what Sydney pulled in Raines' office yesterday, the Triumvirate wanted a shadow team on him. Besides, it was only a matter of time before he went south on us, all psychiatrists are crazy, Angel, that's a fact."  
  
"Sydney's not crazy."  
  
"No? What would you call it? He thinks you're--"  
  
"--They'll lock him up, Daddy, I can't let that happen."  
  
"Honey, I know you think you're doing what's best, but--"  
  
"--Daddy, please.....call off the sweepers outside and give me some time. Look, the Triumvirate knows that Eric's death wasn't Syd's fault, right?" Mr. Parker remained silent, and his daughter frowned, "What are you not telling me?"  
  
"Nothing. I'll give you a few days, but I'm keeping the sweepers outside, just in case."  
  
"Just in case, what...?"  
  
"He did try to kill Raines yesterday, who's to say that it won't be you tomorrow?"  
  
"That's ridiculous."  
  
"Just be careful, Angel."  
  
"Good-bye, Daddy." She hung up the phone and stared at Broots, "Well, we're up shit creek with no paddle now...."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean we don't have all the pieces to this puzzle, Broots."  
  
The door bell rang, interrupting them. Parker opened it, to find Fr. Rausch standing on her doorstep.  
  
"Thanks for coming."  
  
He stepped inside, "I'm sorry that things have taken a turn for the worse, but as I told you on the phone, Miss Parker, you really should take him to a facility."  
  
Parker indicated Broots, "This is Mr. Broots, a colleague of mine, and if you'll follow me, I'll show you where Sydney is."  
  
"Miss Parker, did you hear what I said?"  
  
"Yes, father, I did. There isn't a lot of choice here; there are....extenuating circumstances."  
  
"What kind of circumstances?"  
  
"It's better for you if I don't tell you."  
  
"What, do you people work for the CIA or something?"  
  
Broots and Parker exchanged an amused glance, and she answered, "Or something....please, follow me."  
  
The priest followed her up the stairs and into the room where Sydney was sleeping. Parker sat down on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Syd?" He stirred quickly and Parker smiled at him, "The man I told you about is here to see you."  
  
"The priest who isn't...."  
  
"I'm Fr. Tom, and I really am a priest."  
  
Sydney smiled, "It was a little Jesuit joke from earlier."  
  
"If you don't mind, I'll leave you two alone."  
  
Sydney grabbed her with a hand on her sleeve, "Wait...."  
  
She took Sydney's hand, "You'll be fine. He's here to help you, Syd, just let him, okay?"  
  
She brushed his forehead with her hand and left the room, closing the door behind her. The two men stared at each other in awkward silence for awhile. Finally, Fr. Rausch pulled a chair next to the bed, and sat in it.  
  
"I don't need to talk you to you. I'm not nuts."  
  
He looked at the older man thoughtfully, "No, but you think it's 1968, despite the fact that Miss Parker told you otherwise, don't you?"  
  
"Well, one of us is obviously confused. Who's to say it's me?"  
  
The priest smiled at him, "True. I think for the sake of argument then, that we should discover which one of you is confused. What do you say to that idea?"  
  
Sydney just stared at the man, as closed mouthed as an oyster in August.  
  
"Whatever you say to me, Sydney, it will stay in this room, you have my word on it."  
  
"Your word? I don't even know you."  
  
"I'm a priest, think of this as having the seal of confession."  
  
"Priests are not to be trusted."  
  
Fr. Tom looked at Sydney, who seemed slightly surprised by his own words, "What makes you say that?"  
  
"I....I don't know where that came from."  
  
"You seem to be harbouring some deep resentment toward the church in general Sydney, do you know why?"  
  
"No. I was raised a catholic, my brother Jacob and I were altar boys before--"  
  
"--Before?"  
  
"Before Dachau."  
  
"Tell me about that, Sydney."  
  
The fear filling the older man's eyes made Fr. Tom uneasy. It was the same fear he had seen in Sydney the night before. He swallowed hard; instead of helping, there was the distinct possibility he could make matters worse. Tom hoped he wasn't heading down the wrong side of the tracks....  
  
*************  
  
**The Centre   
Mr. Raines' Office**  
  
"Miss Parker," Broots whispered, "we're going to get caught in here."  
  
"Not if you keep your pants on, Scooby Doo."  
  
"Just being _in_ here gives me the creeps."  
  
"Yeah, Nosferatu's mojo is everywhere."  
  
The lock of the bottom drawer finally clicked and Parker smiled, "Wonder if the Centre ever thought its training would be so handy at moments like these..."  
  
"Could you just hurry up?"  
  
"Don't tell me you have to pee again...."  
  
"Hey, I drank that whole 32 oz. coke from 7-11, give me a break."  
  
Parker searched through the file folders and finally found one marked _Maisel_. She opened it and began scanning the pages.  
  
"Hey, Broots, write this address down, 3924 Cassel Road, Cape Cod."  
  
The tech grabbed a pen off Raines' desk and scribbled onto his hand, "Got it. Can we go now?"  
  
Parker, having witnessed his dictation prowess, shook her head at him, "Yeah, let's go."  
  
******************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
Broots and Parker snuck through the neighbour's yard, heading back into Parker's property the same way they had left it; through the back yard, and away from prying eyes. They quickly walked through the back door, and Parker started at the sound of the male voice in her kitchen.  
  
"Find everything you went searching for?"  
  
"Fr. Tom, you scared the....crap out of me."  
  
He laughed, "Uh-huh."  
  
"How's Sydney?"  
  
"He's asleep. I think I wore him out, we talked through most of the night."  
  
He nodded for Parker to follow him into the living room. Broots started to follow, but she stopped him, sensing that the priest wanted to speak only to her.  
  
"Broots, do me a favour and put on some coffee, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, sure."  
  
Parker followed Fr. Tom into the living room, and they sat down on the couch and in a chair, respectively.  
  
"How bad is it?"  
  
"Well, as I suspected, his subconscious mind has retreated into a time and place it considers safe, in order to avoid facing something that it instinctively knows is too painful for his conscious mind to handle."  
  
"I don't completely understand; Sydney has dealt with a lot of pain in his life. Why now? Why this?"  
  
"He hasn't come clean with me yet, but this boy Eric seems to be the catalyst. You can think of this as a slow burn, and Eric, a can of gasoline. All of the pain Sydney's faced in his life has cornerstoned like blocks, one on top of the other. The layers of guilt I'm sensing from him are immense. Culpability, betrayal.... on some level he feels abandoned by everyone and everything he's ever trusted or loved in his life. The church, his parents, his brother, this student of his, Jarod; he no longer feels safe enough to remain in the present time, with the weight of all of his past experiences on him."  
  
"So he likes 1968 better than 2001.....can't we just tell him to get over it?"  
  
"I wish it were that simple, but as a psychiatrist himself, Sydney has an edge on most mental patients; he knows exactly how and where to go in his mind to hide."  
  
"Are you saying there's nothing you can do?"  
  
"No, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that this could take awhile, and he may or may not recover."  
  
Stunned, Parker, stood up, and began to pace the length of the living room.  
  
"I can't accept that. I have to get Sydney back. There must be something we can do."  
  
"There is one thing...."  
  
"What?"  
  
"If you can help him right whatever this terrible wrong is that he seems to think he's committed against Eric..." The look on her face said it all, "I take it that's out of the question?"  
  
"Unless you know how to bring the dead back to life, father, yeah, it's out of the question."  
  
"Death. I should have known."  
  
"Known what?"  
  
"It's often the death of someone close that brings us to our most vulnerable point, allowing the mind to collapse into itself."  
  
"You don't understand. Sydney thinks he's responsible for the death of a child who was placed in his care. His own guilt was compounded by the grief stricken mother who let him have it and then some."  
  
"And you're saying that he is not responsible?"  
  
The anger in her voice was evident, "No, he is not."  
  
"I'm not accusing, Miss Parker, just trying to understand, as best I can, the situation with which I am dealing."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"That's all right, you're very protective of him." The priest glanced at his watch, "I'm afraid I must go; I can't be late for the morning mass, it would only lend credence to all of those Jesuit jokes."  
  
Parker chuckled, "Thank you so much, Fr. Rausch, I really appreciate it."  
  
"Please, call me Fr. Tom, and I'm happy to try and help. I'll come by later on and talk with him some more."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She saw the man out, and started back toward the kitchen, but changed her mind. She quickly went up the stairs and into the guest room. Sydney was sound asleep, tangled in the comforter. Parker gently untangled him, and neatly replaced the covers on top of him.   
  
She stroked his face lightly, "Please don't disappear in there, Syd. I need you."  
  
Parker retreated and closed the door softly behind her. She stopped on the landing, setting her hands on the bannister, staring out into nothing. There had to be a solution. As always when the Centre was involved with something, there were tons of questions, and very few answers. But Sydney needed answers. And she needed to find them for him.  
  
Her father and Mr. Raines were hiding something from her, she could feel it. The game the two of them were playing was becoming more dangerous by the day, and it was obvious that they were not concerned with the welfare of bystanders such as Eric and Sydney. A passing thought hit her: Perhaps Sydney wasn't a bystander at all, but rather the main player without knowing it. But what was to be gained by offing him, by whom, and why? There were the obvious answers: Raines wanted rid of him simply because Sydney rarely agreed with the man's tactics and opposed him at every turn. But what about Mr. Parker? The man who had raised her; what did he gain by Sydney's departure from the scene?  
  
She closed her eyes in fear. It had to be something that ran very deep, something very old; something which had been kept hidden in the cobwebs of the Centre for so long, it could cause panic amongst some of the coolest players. Sydney was at the crux of it; and he didn't even know it. The poor man's very sanity was in doubt. It was up to her to pull him through it, and to uncover whatever crooked corner her father and Mr. Raines were desperately trying to straighten.  
  
She closed her eyes as the tears fell unbidden down her face, her whisper rising on the unseen smoke of incense, "Please...show me how to help him through this....."  
  
fin  
  



	3. Part III

Incense Rising Part III

THE PRETENDER  
Incense Rising Part III  
by the lurker  
  
**3924 Cassel Road  
Cape Cod**  
  
Parker noted that the house looked perfectly typical from the outside. Slate blue in colour, white picket fence running round the perimeter; the only thing missing was the 2.1 kids and the dog in the front yard. Broots followed Parker up the walkway, and nervously put his hands in his pockets when she rang the bell.   
  
Parker glared in his direction, If you ask to use the restroom, I swear to god, you're walking back to Blue Cove.  
  
Jeez....shouldn't my bathroom habits be my own personal business?  
  
Do you really want me to answer that?  
  
As he opened his mouth to retort, the door to the house opened, revealing a tall man in his forties.  
  
Yes, may I help you?  
  
Parker smiled gently, My name is Miss Parker, this is Mr. Broots. We work for......the Centre. I was wondering if I might speak to Mrs. Maisel.   
  
Parker paused, waiting for a reaction which didn't come.   
  
She exchanged a look with Broots, and then continued, I apologize for disturbing you, Mr......?  
  
The man's brows narrowed, I'm sorry....what is this concerning?  
  
Parker's eyes filled with confusion, We work for the Centre, and it concerns Mrs. Maisel's son.  
  
The man's face turned hopeful, Eric? Have you found Eric?  
  
Another look passed between Broots and Parker, and she smiled carefully at the man, Found him?  
  
Yes...my son Eric is missing. The Centre.....are you some kind of government agency or something? Did you find my son?  
  
_Your_ son?  
  
Yes, I'm George Maisel, Eric's father.  
  
Parker just stared at the man for a moment, trying to put together pieces that didn't fit.   
  
She recovered, May I please speak with Mrs. Maisel, is she home?  
  
The door opened wider and a tall, lithe woman in her mid forties stood next to Mr. Maisel, her voice was shaking, Did you find Eric or not?  
  
Parker stared at the woman, And you are?  
  
The woman glared at Parker, Mrs. Maisel. Her voice turned slightly hysterical, Where is my son? Where is Eric?  
  
Broots started to say something, but Parker stopped him with a hand on his arm. Calming her outward appearance, she spoke again to the couple.  
  
No, I'm sorry, but we haven't. We don't mean to trouble you, but we're working in conjunction with the other agencies, and we just need some more information, if you don't mind.  
  
The Maisels exchanged a look, and after a moment, Mr. Maisel invited them inside.  
  
********************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
Sydney sat at the end of the large couch in the living room, his hand tapping on the armrest. He didn't want to think about Dr. Krieg, nor his time at Dachau. He just wanted to be left alone. Damn Catherine for making him speak with this man again. He looked up at the priest sitting in the chair next to him, and he wanted nothing more than to tell him to leave and never come back.  
  
The impatience showed in his tone, I already told you; there's nothing significant about my time with Dr. Krieg. The Nazis abducted my family, interned us in a camp, killed my family and used Jacob and I for experiments. End of story.  
  
Fr. Tom arched an eyebrow in Sydney's direction, And you don't feel that this experience has in any way scarred you as an adult?  
  
Of course it scarred me. I simply don't allow it to rule me. There's a difference.  
  
He knew that Sydney was going to be a tough nut to crack, he just hadn't realized how tough.  
  
Tom nodded, All right. Let's move on to your brother.  
  
What about him?  
  
You haven't said much about him.  
  
I have nothing to say.  
  
Sydney, I can't help you, unless you talk to me.  
  
Sydney smiled, I don't remember saying that I required your help. I'm only going along with this because I know it's important to Catherine.  
  
And she is important to you.  
  
  
  
Tell me about your relationship with her.  
  
_Relationship_ with her? Sydney laughed, You make it sound so sordid. We're friends, Fr. Rausch, good friends.  
  
And there's nothing more?  
  
Sydney's smile disappeared, No, and I resent the implication.  
  
So I see. Why?  
  
She's married.  
  
Tom looked at Sydney carefully, Hmmm, not because you don't have feelings for her, but because she's married, that's interesting--  
  
--Don't put words in my mouth.  
  
The priest watched the older man for a moment; he was hiding something.  
  
Tom smiled, Which words, Sydney?  
  
The psychiatrist glared, I don't have feelings for her.  
  
Really....she's your friend, but you have _no _feelings.  
  
That's not what I meant, and you know it.  
  
What do you mean, Sydney?  
  
A sardonic chuckle escaped Sydney's mouth, I simply meant that I have no romantic feelings for Catherine.  
  
I see.  
  
Do you?  
  
Tom smiled gently, You seem uncomfortable with this subject.  
  
Sydney stood up, I'm uncomfortable with _you_.  
  
You don't even know me, doctor.  
  
I don't have to know you, the Ro--  
  
Sydney stopped himself, letting out a long sigh of air. He looked to the floor and squeezed the muscles of his neck with his hand.   
  
Tom's voice brought Sydney's eyes back to meet the younger man's, The Roman collar's enough for you, isn't it?  
  
An ironic rush of air blew through Sydney's lips, and he looked away. It was going to be a long session.  
  
*****************  
  
**3924 Cassel Road  
Cape Cod  
  
**Mrs. Maisel couldn't stop the tears flowing down her cheeks, nor could she keep her hands from shaking.**  
  
**Mr. Maisel stood behind his wife's chair, his hand protectively on her shoulder, I'm sorry Miss Parker, but I don't understand why you're making my wife hash through this again.  
  
I apologize, Mr. Maisel; it will be extremely helpful in our investigation if we receive the information first hand. I understand how difficult this must be, and I'm very sorry.  
  
Broots shot Parker a glare which could only come from a sympathetic parent. In response Parker gave him a warning look clearly indicating that he should remain silent. He sat back on the couch, his arms crossing in front of his chest.   
  
Parker turned back to Mrs. Maisel, who was sitting in the chair next to her, Please continue, Mrs. Maisel, when you're ready.  
  
It's as I told the police that afternoon. Eric was in the backyard, playing in his treehouse. I was in the kitchen, making dinner. The phone rang, and it was some kind of poll......  
  
A poll?  
  
Yes, it was a Nielsen poll; they just wanted to ask a few questions about the television programs we watch.  
  
Mrs. Maisel looked away, unsuccessfully trying to hold the tears back. Her husband gently squeezed her shoulder in quiet support. After a moment, she turned back to face Miss Parker.  
  
It took maybe seven minutes for me to answer the questions, and when I finished, I hung up the phone, and looked out the kitchen window, to check on Eric. And....and--  
  
And he was gone?  
  
Her voice was filled with sadness,   
  
And the police never found any clues?  
  
Mr. Maisel spoke up, Nothing. No signs of struggle, no fingerprints; no one saw a thing out on the street. It's as if he .....  
  
Broots looked at the man, Disappeared into thin air.  
  
  
  
Parker stood up and shook hands with each of the Maisels, Thank you so much for your time, we really appreciate it.   
  
Broots followed Parker to the door, and Mr. Maisel held it open for them. As Parker hit the last step on the porch, Maisel called to her.  
  
Miss Parker?  
  
  
  
Please find my son.  
  
Parker swallowed hard, trying to keep her throat from welling up completely, We'll do our best.  
  
With a slightly renewed hope, Mr. Maisel smiled at them, and closed the door. The look of disgust Broots gave Parker as he shook his head and walked to the car, couldn't match the self loathing that was quickly filling her heart.  
  
******************  
  
**The Centre**  
  
The dark corridor of SL-19 felt like a wind tunnel. He made a mental note to have maintenance check into it. The sound of squeaky wheels approaching, alerted him to the fact that Raines was there. Parker looked at his watch; five minutes past the hour. The squeaking stopped and Mr. Parker fixed his eyes on the bald headed man before him.  
  
You're late.  
  
It couldn't be helped.  
  
What do you want? Raines checked the corridor as if looking for prying eyes or ears, and Parker's patience quickly waned, You know damned well that there is no one down here and that there are no security cameras, or you wouldn't have chosen this corridor. Get to the point, I haven't got all day.  
  
Several members of the Triumvirate have called Jack Carnes back for more questioning. It seems that some are not convinced that he acted alone.  
  
Parker's eyes narrowed, I heard nothing of this...  
  
Relax. He won't get there. Parker released a sigh of air, and Raines smiled, Consider it an act of good faith from me to you. I've taken care of the Carnes problem....  
  
And now it's time for me to turn their attention to Sydney, is that it?  
  
I'm glad we understand each other.  
  
Raines walked past Parker and watched as the man disappeared into the depths of the corridor beyond. He shivered slightly, unsure if it was due to the chill of the draft, or something far more tangible.  
  
*******************  
  
**I-195, Massachusetts  
Parker's Car**  
  
The air in the car was stifling. Broots had said not a word to her since they had left the Maisel's house. She knew why he was upset, and she couldn't blame him; but there had been no alternative.  
  
Are you going to pout all the way back to Delaware? Broots looked away, and Parker continued, Fine. Be that way.  
  
Parker switched on the radio. Two seconds later, Broots switched it off. She sighed heavily, then stabbed her finger at the on button once again; and just as quickly, Broots hit it again.  
  
Her voice carried a tough edge, Stop acting like a five year old. There was no other way to handle it.  
  
So giving the Maisels false hope that their son is alive was okay for you....  
  
In this situation, yeah; there was no other way to get the information.  
  
The end justifies the means. How Raineseque of you.   
  
The barb hurt, but Parker kept her voice calm, Look, Broots, I would never have-- if there had been another way, I would have taken it.  
  
Save it for someone who cares.  
  
Parker jarred him in his seat, as she swerved into the right shoulder, slamming on the brakes of the big towncar. Her voice was filled with anger.  
  
I did what had to be done. I'd do it again. He didn't look at her, much less answer, so she continued, The Mrs. Maisel we just met, was not the woman who attacked Sydney in the corridor at the Centre, Mr. Maisel, who supposedly died when Eric was a baby, is very much alive, and I'll bet you a Fajita-pita, that the Nielson' call came from the Centre. And obviously someone at the Centre lied to Sydney about how Eric was recruited.  
  
Broots looked at her, Are you sure?  
  
Parker glared at him, What are you saying? That Sydney knew? She turned away, gripping the steering wheel hard, That would make this the pretender project all over again.  
  
Nothing else makes sense.  
  
Parker frowned, Syd didn't know that the woman impersonating Mrs. Maisel at the Centre was not the real one. And Broots, we know that Raines is in on this, so you can rest assured that Eric was adjusted' before he ever got to Sydney.  
  
But why?  
  
It's all tied into setting Sydney up. Somebody wants him gone.  
  
Sydney's been around for more than thirty years, why now?  
  
That's the question for us to answer, isn't it.....  
  
Parker put the car back into gear and merged back onto the highway.   
  
Broots had seen the look on her face before, and he knew it meant trouble, Oh boy.....  
  
****************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
Why don't you tell me about the work you do.  
  
Sydney's tone carried fear, I can't.  
  
Why not?  
  
I just can't.  
  
Tom shifted in his chair, Is it classified?  
  
Sydney smiled uneasily, Something like that.  
  
What about this boy.....Jarod.  
  
What about him?  
  
You haven't said much, but I've gathered by your tone, that you're very fond of him.  
  
Sydney's eyes darted to the coffee table, and the gift he had bought for Jarod, which was sitting there. Tom followed Sydney's gaze, landing on the rectangular present.  
  
That for him?  
  
Sydney frowned,   
  
What's in it?'  
  
Sydney picked the gift up, holding it gently, It doesn't matter.  
  
Then why not tell me?  
  
After a moment, Sydney unwrapped the present and handed it to Tom, who took the framed picture into his hands, studying it. The time period looked to be somewhere in the early forties, and he could see where parts of the photograph had faded over time. There was a tall man, walking away from the camera, down a road, he was holding a little boy's hand.   
  
The priest looked up at Sydney, You and your father?  
  
Yes. It's the only surviving photo of just the two of us. My brother and I found it amongst the rubble of our house after the war.  
  
He handed it back to Sydney, Why are you giving it to Jarod?  
  
Sydney's mouth pulled into a straight line, Jarod has no family. He's a little boy, alone, and I thought.....  
  
What, Sydney? You can say it.  
  
Sydney swallowed down the lump in his throat, He gave me a father's day card, and I--  
  
His eyes filled with tears, and he looked down at his hands.   
  
Tom frowned,   
  
I told him he was never to do it again, that I wasn't his father. And then--  
  
Sydney couldn't keep the tears from falling.   
  
Tom moved to sit on the coffee table right in front of him, laying a supportive hand on his shoulder, It's all right, Sydney, just tell me.  
  
I put it in the trash can, right there, in front of him. The sadness in Sydney's tone tore at the priest's heart, He looked so hurt, I had to leave the room.  
  
This boy isn't your son?  
  
  
  
But you think of him that way....  
  
Fear filled Sydney's eyes as he barked out the answer,   
  
Yet you want to give him the only picture of you with your father; that is something a man gives to his family. You're not telling me the truth, Sydney.  
  
Sydney stared deeply into the man's eyes, The truth is whatever I say it is, father.  
  
Is that what the people you work for have told you?  
  
No. I learned that one from the people you work for.....  
  
***************  
  
**The Centre**  
  
Miss Parker stepped into the foyer of the office floor, and was confronted with an eerie sight. The elevator was open, roped off, with sweepers and cleaners crawling all over the place. A photographer was taking pictures of the inside of the elevator car, and she had to turn away. The hand touching her back a moment later made her jump.  
  
Easy, honey, it's me.  
  
She tried to keep her voice calm, Daddy....what's going on?  
  
He followed her gaze to the elevator shaft, Jack Carnes couldn't take the guilt I guess.  
  
Parker stared into her father's eyes,   
  
He was called back to the Tower for more questioning regarding the....incident. He wasn't where he was supposed to be this morning, and a sweeper team found him in the elevator, dead.  
  
  
  
A strange emotion played across Mr. Parker's face, Now honey, what does it matter? Dead is dead.  
  
Tell me.  
  
It was suicide.  
  
He shot himself, didn't he? In the same elevator car--  
  
Her emotions swirling, she started to walk away from him, but he grabbed her hand, pulling her into his embrace, Angel....you mustn't let this upset you. Carnes obviously felt remorse over the boy, and couldn't take it.  
  
She looked up at him, Did he ever say who put him up to it?  
  
I'm afraid not. He held her at arm's length, Honey, you understand what will have to happen.....  
  
Yeah....Sydney will be fired and tossed out into the streets. Is that how we say thank you for over thirty years of service to the Centre?  
  
Taking her by the arm, he started walking them toward his office, Don't be so dramatic, Angel, Sydney will be taken care of.  
  
She stopped walking and glared at him, What does _that _mean?  
  
He exhaled deeply, Just that we'll be sure to get him the best psychiatric care available.  
  
Which translated means you're going to have him institutionalized. Daddy, you can't just lock him up for the rest of his life--  
  
He grabbed her hard by the arms, --Now you listen to me; Sydney has been insubordinate for years, and I can't protect him anymore. Not this time, not even for you. Obviously the man was on the edge when he allowed the experiment to take place, and now a child is dead. The only thing that's going to keep _our_ asses out of a courtroom, is a large settlement to the boy's mother, and proof that the mad scientist who killed her son has been locked up.  
  
Miss Parker studied his eyes for a moment, then chose her words carefully, Have you met with Mrs. Maisel?  
  
Our lawyers have.  
  
She nodded slowly, wrapped her arm through his and started them walking again, Daddy, how did the Centre find Eric Maisel anyway?  
  
Usual channels, I suppose....Sydney recruited him, so you'd have to ask him.  
  
Sydney doesn't even know what year it is right now.  
  
Yes, well..... He kissed her cheek, Have dinner with me?  
  
I would Daddy, but, I should check on Syd.  
  
Why don't we get him settled here, in the Renewal Wing?  
  
She smiled sweetly at him, In a few days, Daddy. He deserves at least that.....just so that he's over the shock, you know?  
  
I don't like it...what if he goes off the deep end and tries to hurt you?  
  
I tell you what, Daddy. I'll allow Sam to stay in the house, if you call off the rest of the sweepers. He frowned at her, and she pushed on, Then you won't have to worry. Sam will be right there in case Dr. Strangelove explodes.  
  
His eyes narrowed, trying to gauge her level of sincerity, he smiled back, Fine. You know best.  
  
She kissed him and walked the long way around the foyer, avoiding the elevators. He watched her, the smile on his face never reaching his eyes.  
  
**********************  
  
**Raines' Office**  
  
Parker entered quickly and quietly, walking to the desk where Raines was seated.  
  
We need a shadow team.  
  
Then it hit him, You let her talk you out of the sweepers posted in front of her house.  
  
She didn't talk me out of anything. If I had pushed, she would have become suspicious. My daughter isn't stupid, if we're not careful, she could put some of this together.  
  
Has she asked about the boy's mother?  
  
I took care of it. Parker looked at his watch, I'm going to be late for a meeting.  
  
He headed out, but Raines called to him, See that Miss Parker stays under your control.  
  
Parker glared, but said nothing. Raines smiled as he watched the chairman exit the room.   
  
**************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
Sydney glared at Sam, then at Miss Parker, Catherine, I don't understand why you're keeping me here.  
  
I'm not, exactly.  
  
You are, and his presence here proves it.  
  
Miss Parker sighed and looked at Sam, Would you give us a minute please?  
  
Sam nodded and went into another room, closing the studio door behind him. Sydney crossed his arms in front of him, his anger bubbling through his veins.   
  
Parker moved gently toward him, Syd, you've got to trust me.  
  
I don't know what to think. You won't let me see Jarod, you're keeping me here against my will, forcing me to talk to that damnable priest....Catherine, I feel like I don't know who you are.  
  
Parker set her hands on his crossed arms lightly, Sydney, you do know me, better than I know myself sometimes. You're just going through a rough time right now. I want to help you, but you have to let me.  
  
Then allow me see Jarod.  
  
She turned away from him, That's not possible, Syd.  
  
He shook his head, Then we're at an impasse.  
  
Damnit, how can I make you understand? How can I get through to you? She turned again to face him, It is not 1968, Jarod is no longer at the Centre, my mother and your brother are dead...don't you remember? We've been chasing Jarod's sorry ass all over the country for the past six years, and if I can't get you back to normal, they're going to bury you Sydney. His eyes held a strange gloss to them for a moment, and Parker grabbed his arms, I know you're in there. I need you, Syd.  
  
He frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but just as quickly, it was all gone, and the man from 1968 had returned. And he was staring at her with nothing but hurt and distrust. Parker dejectedly plopped in the nearest chair, burying her head in her hands, leaning on her knees. After several minutes, she felt him kneel in front of her.   
  
He gently took her hands in his, I'm sorry that I can't remember the things that you want me to....What I do remember, is that you're a very dear friend, and I've missed you.  
  
She looked at him, Missed me? What do you mean, Sydney?  
  
A look of confusion clouded his eyes, I'm....I'm not sure. I feel as though I haven't seen you in a long time, Catherine.  
  
Parker exhaled an uneven breath and softly stroked the side of his face, Yeah, it's been awhile.  
  
His eyes opened wider and held the innocence of a child, I miss talking with Jacob. I wish we could call him and go watch the sunset at the beach like we used to........  
  
Tears filled her eyes, and she pulled him into her arms, hugging him tightly around the neck,   
  
****************  
  
**The Centre  
Tower**  
  
Mr. Parker could feel the sweat sliding down underneath his shirt, as Mugambi spoke. The man had always given Parker the creeps, and since the death of Motumbo, he seemed even larger and more powerful. Although it was a clandestine meeting, and only Parker, Mugambi, Qalhata and Jordan Collins were there, Parker's skin continued to crawl in the man's presence, and in the light of their current predicament.  
  
The deep voice continued, We cannot allow our control of shares to be lost, Parker. You understand the implications of this, do you not?  
  
Quite well, just as I've understood them for the past thirty-one years, Mugambi.  
  
Qalhata's velvety voice chimed in, We are the only people to know that Catherine Parker's will has been misinterpreted. The only reason that we allowed it, was because we wanted _you_ to retain control of the Centre.  
  
I understand that--  
  
--Then understand this, Jordan's voice was much higher than the other two, but the steel quality of it grated along Parker's already fraying nerves, Nothing and _no one_ will stand in the way.  
  
Are you threatening me with my daughter?  
  
A sarcastic smile appeared on Mugambi's face, You have lost control of..._your_ daughter, Mr. Parker. How long do you think that you will be able to keep the entire truth from her?  
  
She won't find out.  
  
Qalhata smiled at him, See that she does not--  
  
Jordan interrupted, --What are you doing about the problem itself?  
  
His mind is three sheets to the wind, he isn't going to be a problem.  
  
Qalhata asked, You'll have him committed to a Centre facility then?  
  
Yes, in a few days.  
  
Jordan broke in, I don't understand why the man is still alive. Can't he go the way of his brother or Jack Carnes? It would be a hell of a lot safer in the long run.  
  
Parker glared at the man whom he always thought of as having the eyes of a rat, We cannot afford another accident' or suicide' right now. It would look far too suspicious to prying eyes. Parker smiled and headed toward the door, Now if you will excuse me, I have other things requiring my attention.  
  
Mugambi's voice called to him, Is it that the Centre can ill afford another staged death, or are you just trying to protect Miss Parker from the pain of losing Sydney?  
  
Parker's face turned dark as he reached for the door handle, We simply can't afford to become sloppy. End of story, Mugambi.  
  
Without waiting for another comment, Parker opened the door and stormed through it.   
  
Jordan turned to Mugambi, Can we continue to trust him?  
  
We have never been able to trust him; we have simply controlled him through fear. We will continue with that. As long as we control him, and he maintains his percentage of Centre shares, _we_ control the Centre.  
  
Qalhata looked toward the door, Perhaps we would have had better luck if the rightful heir had received those shares thirty one years ago....  
  
Mugambi stared at her, We would have had no control over him at all. Qalhata shrugged and Mugambi touched her arm with his hand, You feel sorry for him?  
  
No. Of course not.  
  
Qalhata returned her attention to a file in her lap, and Mugambi watched her a minute longer. He hoped that she was not going soft; a woman in her position could ill afford such a luxury.  
  
*****************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
She sat back in her window seat, watching him stare into the fire across the room. She didn't know how to help him, nor if she even could. What if her father was right? What if Sydney had gone over a cliff, and he couldn't climb back up? She exhaled the air she was holding in; she didn't want to think of it. Her phone rang, pulling her attention away from her morbid thoughts.  
  
  
  
Broots' voice answered her, Miss Parker, I've been doing some uhm, research, and I've found something really interesting.  
  
Make it good Broots, it's late.  
  
Well, you know how we were wondering why Jack Carnes would take the fall for this, knowing that he would probably end up dead?  
  
  
  
I think I have the reason why....  
  
While I'm young, Broots....  
  
Yes, well, I was talking to my friend Hildy in accounting, you know, the woman with the large mole on her--  
  
--Broots, I really don't care where her mole is, what _is_ it?  
  
Jeez, Miss Parker, it's not like it's on her--  
  
BROOTS, YOU MORON....just get to the point.  
  
Fine. Hildy happened to mention to me that it was too bad that Jack Carnes killed himself. When I asked her why, she said that it was sad that he would do it so soon after being able to set up his mother and sisters in a beautiful house in Buenos Aires. He apparently showed her pictures....  
  
And just where does a sweeper get that kind of cash?  
  
That was my question, so I started digging.  
  
  
  
And I found an account for Mrs. Carnes. It was back channeled several times to try and cover it, but after awhile I was able to trace it back to the Centre.  
  
Parker sat up straight, Broots, who signed for it?  
  
I'm afraid that information's been covered in a paper trail so thick it'd take Paul Bunyan to find it.  
  
Can you try?  
  
I already did. I can work on it some more, but I don't hold out much hope. Whoever did it, made sure that even if the account was discovered, the source wouldn't be.  
  
Damn. Okay. Good work, Broots.  
  
Thanksl...and by the way, I checked the phone records, and that Nielsen call Mrs. Maisel received came from a Centre cell phone.  
  
Big shock there. Not. Broots...one more favour?  
  
  
  
I'd like to find our doppelgänger Mrs. Maisel. See what you can dig up on that for me, okay?  
  
I'll do my best.  
  
  
  
Parker hung up the phone and looked once again at the man staring into the fire. She stood up and went to the couch, taking a seat next to him. He seemed unaware of her presence until she spoke.  
  
Penny for your thoughts, Syd....  
  
  
  
You seem lost in thought....anything you want to talk about?  
  
He shook his head, but she could sense that he was upset.   
  
Tentatively she reached a hand over and stroked the back of his head, You're safe with me, you know that.  
  
His lips were pressed tightly together, then he finally opened them, Dachau. I was thinking about Dachau.  
  
She closed her eyes and swallowed, then looked at him once more, What made you think of that?  
  
I don't know. The fire I suppose. It reminds me of the stories Jacob and I were told the day we were taken. The Nazis delighted in telling us of giant incinerators eating entire rooms full of people. To a couple of young boys, well, you can imagine...   
  
He shivered slightly at the memory and Parker took his hand, It's okay, you're safe now.  
  
I.....I'm sorry. I haven't thought of that day in years.  
  
You've never told me about it, Sydney. He shook his head, and she squeezed his hand, It might make you feel better Syd, if you talk about it.  
  
My father had heard the rumours that they were coming to Lyons, but he didn't worry too much at first, because my family was Catholic, and the Nazis seemed interested mostly in Jews. But then a priest from our parish told my father that they were also experimenting on non-Jews, and that with twin sons, my father should take us and leave Lyons.  
  
The memory was difficult for him, and he looked down, swallowing hard; Parker felt a pang of sympathy, and once again squeezed the hand held in hers.  
  
His voice was like a soft caress when he continued, The priest offered to help get us out of France, and my father agreed. We packed up a few things that very night, and in the dark, the priest snuck us through the back gate of the church grounds, and hid us in the back room of the sacristy. He said we would be safe there, and that the following night, he would get us on a train heading for Switzerland.  
  
How did they find you?  
  
Sydney shook his head, I....I don't remember exactly. It all happened so fast, and it was so cold, and so dark.....I don't really know. What I do recall was the moment when one of them grabbed my mother. She screamed. I had never heard her scream like that, and it terrified me. His eyes welled up with tears, and he fought to keep them at bay, That was the last time I saw my mother. We were taken to a train station later, and my brother and I were placed on one train, and my parents on another. My sister didn't even make it that far.  
  
Parker's eyes widened in surprise, Your sister?  
  
Yes, Catherine......you know I hardly ever speak of her. To this day I can't stand to hear the Bach/Gounod _Ave Maria_ because it was her favourite song to sing. She had such a beautiful voice.....  
  
Why don't you ever talk about her, Syd?  
  
The tears began to spill down his face, I barely remember her, and I'm ashamed. My brother and I were allowed to live, but she was condemned to death.  
  
He turned his face away from Parker, disgraced by his own tears.   
  
She pulled his chin back toward her and looked into his eyes, You have nothing to be ashamed of, Sydney; it wasn't your fault. You lived, and she didn't; you didn't kill her.  
  
It isn't fair. I should have been able to do something, his sobs were building upon each other as his emotions came out in a jumble, I should have been able to save her; to save all of them. I should have stopped him. It was my fault....  
  
Parker stared at him, Stopped who, Sydney? One of the soldiers?  
  
The man who betrayed us to them...  
  
Sensing that she had stumbled onto something important to his recovery, she grabbed his face hard, between her two hands, Sydney, what man? Tell me about him.  
  
He sobbed, I can't remember what he looked like....  
  
She couldn't push him any further, and she knew it. Parker pulled his upper body into her lap, and let him lean on her as the sobs continued to pour out of him.  
  
She gently caressed the back of his head as he cried, Oh Sydney, I wish I knew how to help you.  
  
Perceiving that it was calming him, Parker slowly kept running her fingers through his hair, until exhausted, he fell into a troubled sleep. Gently she lowered his head to the couch, stood up and lifted his legs onto it as well. She covered him with a throw blanket and carefully placed a pillow under his head. Feeling the effects of a long day, she curled up on the window seat, and within minutes was sound asleep herself.  
  
****************  
  
**The Centre  
Broots' Area**  
  
It was early, and he wanted to finish the search he was performing before anyone else was around. It was easier, not to mention a helluva lot safer. Broots had wandered down every possible avenue of paper he could find, trying to trace the fake Mrs. Maisel; but it was as if the woman had never existed. He had been following this one particular lead for over an hour, it would take him to one dead end, and then, he'd pick up a new trail, and it would start all over again.  
  
Broots was cross eyed with exhaustion, and it had almost slipped right past him. Thank god, something had caught his eye, and he flipped back to the document. It was a Centre death certificate for Eric Maisel. He checked the dates, and it seemed correct, although there was no listing of next of kin. It appeared perfectly in order, until he looked at the name of the doctor of record.  
  
He wasted no time picking up his phone.  
  
  
  
Miss Parker, it's me...I've got something.  
  
You found her?  
  
No, but I found Eric Maisel's death certificate.  
  
She couldn't keep the impatience out of her voice, So what? Dead is dead, Broots. We already know that the boy is dead.  
  
No, you don't understand.....Miss Parker, the death certificate was signed by Dr. William Raines. The silence on the other end of the line lasted so long, Broots thought there had been a disconnection, Miss Parker?  
  
I'm here. You don't suppose....?  
  
Anything's possible.  
  
As soon as Fr. Tom gets here, and I know that Syd's taken care of, I'll be in.  
  
Before he could say good bye, the dial tone rang in his ear.  
  
*****************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
He sat at the kitchen table, absently sipping from his coffee mug. He hadn't said one word to her since the night before, and it was beginning to worry her. She walked into the kitchen, and over to where he was sitting, both her hands coming to her hips in annoyance.  
  
We need to talk about this toothpaste thing, Freud.... how many times do I have to remind you to squeeze from the bottom, not just anywhere you feel like it....  
  
He looked at her momentarily, but she wasn't sure if anything had registered. Then he returned his attention to the colour of the far wall. Parker's hands slid off her hips; she had hoped that the mock irritation would garner some kind of reaction. She looked down and sighed, fighting off the feelings of frustration and desperation which were threatening to overtake her.   
  
He took her hand, Don't look so sad, Catherine.  
  
Her big eyes filled with moisture, I just miss you, Syd.  
  
Miss me? But I'm right here.  
  
She smiled sadly, Remember how you felt yesterday when you said that you had missed me?  
  
His brows knitted together,   
  
It's sort of like that. I miss the Sydney I know.  
  
He let her hand slip out of his, and brought his arms back to lean on the table,   
  
Parker hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, but her own frustration was beginning to wear thin. After a calming breath, she stepped behind his chair and gently began massaging his shoulders. He grimaced slightly as she pressed too hard on a taut muscle, and she eased her touch.  
  
I'm sorry.....I should have realized you'd be a little sore.  
  
Your hands are very strong.  
  
I used to do this for my father. Right after my mother died, he didn't talk much, and it was one of the few ways that I could feel close to him.  
  
Were you young when your mother died, Catherine?  
  
Yes, very.  
  
A tiny edge of disorder slipped into his timbre, I never knew that....  
  
Parker could feel his muscles tensing under her hands, Hey, Freud, you're tensing up; this is supposed to relax you. What's the matter?  
  
I.....I don't know.  
  
She stopped rubbing his back and sat down in the chair next to him, laying a concerned hand on his forearm, Just tell me what you're thinking.  
  
When you said that your mother died and you were very young.....  
  
Yes? What about that?  
  
I know you've never told me that before, and yet, it sounded familiar.  
  
She tried to keep the urgency out of her tone, Yes...and what about that, Syd?  
  
She could see that the train of thought was breaking down, and before he could answer, the doorbell rang. Her head dropped momentarily in defeat.  
  
I'm sorry, I keep trying to remember things, but...  
  
Parker placed two fingers over his lips, shushing him, It's not your fault. I'm just frustrated, that's all. It isn't you, Sydney.  
  
She stood up and went to the front door, opening it.  
  
Good morning, Miss Parker, Fr. Tom's smile dissipated slightly, Are you all right? You look a little....upset.  
  
Yes, I'm fine. Sydney's in the kitchen.  
  
She seemed distracted, and the priest decided to leave her to her thoughts, as he walked toward the doorway.  
  
Father.....I want to relay to you what Sydney told me last night, before you speak with him today. There might be something to it.  
  
****************  
  
**The Centre  
Broots' Area**  
  
Parker perused the copy of the death certificate, and as plain as the bald pate atop Nosferatu's head, was his signature above Physician of Record'.   
  
She handed the paper back to Broots, shaking her head, This is worse than I thought...  
  
Broots frowned at her, What do you mean? The kid might be alive, Miss Parker, that's great news, isn't it?  
  
She placed a hand on Broots' shoulder, but, where is this going? Jack Carnes switched the chemicals in the lab, we saw that; he was paid off, and now he's dead. A woman, who we know is not Eric's mother, shows up at the Centre claiming to be her, laying a guilt trip on Sydney with all the delicacy of a two ton elephant. We can't find this woman anywhere, but five will get you ten, she's on somebody's payroll, and it's probably the same somebody who paid off Carnes. In the meantime, my father is trying to rush Sydney into the Centre's rubber room, citing that it's the only way Mrs. Maisel' can be kept quiet. And now Nosferatu's signature shows up on the kid's death certificate, which makes no sense, since the attending was Dr. Boito.  
  
Sure seems like it would take more than one person to accomplish all of it.  
  
Yeah, but who is ultimately behind it and why? Raines' part in this is easy; he's wanted to get rid of Sydney for as long as I can remember, but.....  
  
But you don't think he's it, huh?  
  
No. While I can see him hiring a fake Mrs. Maisel, paying off both she and Carnes, and even signing a fake death certificate, I can't see him risking his own neck like this just to get rid of Sydney. Raines is too exposed, it's too obvious. No, he's lent a hand in all of this, but he isn't behind it.  
  
Broots swallowed hard, Uh...you don't think it's uh, Mr. Parker, do you?  
  
She glared at him, but her voice was vulnerable, I don't think so. What reason could he possibly have for going to this much trouble?  
  
Good point. He could just fire him.  
  
You know what really doesn't make sense?  
  
  
  
If it's the Triumvirate, and they want rid of him this badly, why not just kill him?  
  
Don't say things like that.  
  
Oh grow up, Scooby Doo, it's the truth. It just isn't adding up. Why cause just a nervous breakdown if he's some kind of threat or security risk? Why not see to it he has an accident, or something?  
  
What about Eric? Do you think there's a chance he's still alive?  
  
Not only a chance, Broots, I'd snap my last garter on the fact that he's being kept on the premises somewhere. She headed for the door, motioning to Broots, Come on, let's see if we can find him.  
  
  
  
Let's start down on--  
  
--No, no, don't say it, I know, SL-27. Broots made a face as he pulled himself out of his chair, I hate it when this happens.  
  
***************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
Fr. Tom watched as Sydney fidgeted with everything within an arm's reach.  
  
Sydney.....Miss Parker told me about your discussion last night.  
  
The psychiatrist looked up sharply, She had no right to.  
  
She just wants to help you. Like I do. A grunt of disbelief issued from Sydney's lips and the priest continued, She said that you recalled that there was a man. A man you felt betrayed your family to the Nazis. Tell me about him, Sydney.  
  
I don't remember.  
  
Let's take it step by step. You were hiding in a room in the sacristy, then what happened? Sydney looked away, refusing to answer, Tom prodded him, Did you hear something?  
  
Footsteps. Heavy footsteps outside, running.  
  
Where are you?  
  
I'm in a room with my family. My mother is holding my brother, and my older sister is holding me.  
  
Where's your father?  
  
Sydney's eyes glossed over as his mind entered the realm of the past, He's.....he's standing by the door, holding a candlestick. He says he won't let them get us, not without a fight. We hear voices, yelling, and then doors slamming. There is more running outside the windows. My brother Jacob begins crying, because he's so scared.  
  
And what about you, are you scared?  
  
  
  
No? Why not?  
  
Because I know He'll save us.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Yes. He won't let anything happen to my family. And the priest... he promised to protect us, to get us out safely. I'm not frightened, because I know nothing can happen. I try to tell my sister not to be afraid, but she won't listen to me. She begins to cry, and I pull her into my arms, to hold her. Sydney swallowed, choking back tears, The noises are getting closer, but now there's no more running, or yelling. I hear footsteps approaching on the marble floor. The door opens.....  
  
What happens then, Sydney?  
  
The door opens.....and my father puts the candlestick down. He's relieved. But then the Nazis storm in, soldiers carrying guns. There are too many of them to fight. One of them grabs my brother from my mother's arms, and she screams--  
  
The tears spilled from Sydney's eyes, and he buried his face into his hands.   
  
Fr. Tom placed a comforting hand on Sydney's head, I know this is difficult, Sydney, but try....  
  
His voice was filled with fear, I've never heard my mother scream, and it terrifies me. A soldier has my mother and my father at gunpoint. Another soldier is holding Jacob.  
  
What about you and your sister?  
  
I'm standing in front of her, shouting at the soldiers that I won't let them touch her. One of the Nazis comes over to me, pointing his gun at my head, but I won't move. Another man tells the soldier that he can't hurt me, because they want my brother and I. The man grabs me and throws me back out of the way, and then-- A cry filled with anguish wrenched from Sydney's throat, as the memory flooded his mind, They just shot her. Right there, in the sacristy of the church. She falls back and I catch her. There's blood everywhere, it's on my clothes, my face...and my hands.  
  
Tom reached over and gently began to rub Sydney's neck, trying to calm him, Okay, take it easy. Sydney, take a deep breath for me, all right?  
  
The psychiatrist gasped a little for air, She died right in front of me, and I could do nothing. Just like....just like.....  
  
Just like who, Sydney?  
  
Sydney didn't answer. After a few minutes, his breathing slowly returned to normal.  
  
Fr. Tom stopped rubbing his neck and looked into Sydney's eyes, How're you doing?  
  
Better......I'm sorry.  
  
No worries. It wasn't your fault, Sydney. You couldn't have stopped them.  
  
I should have tried.  
  
No...I think there are too many people in the here and now who would have missed knowing you. He smiled at Sydney, and then commented, There's one thing you haven't told me.... Sydney's eyebrows raised in question and Tom continued, You told Miss Parker that there was a man, but you didn't mention him right now; however, you said the door opened, and your father put down the candlestick, and that he looked relieved. Why would he look relieved if he saw soldiers?  
  
Sydney frowned, I....I can't remember.  
  
Sydney, concentrate.....the door opens, and what happens next?  
  
Sydney closed his eyes, The door opens....the door--It's Father Samuelle! He's come to get us out! Fear filled Sydney's face, No...he's letting the Nazis in. He's letting them in to take us away!   
  
Sydney's big brown eyes popped open and stared intently into Fr. Tom's, Why? Why would he do this? He was our priest, a friend; one of god's chosen....why would he betray my family? He killed my sister, and my parents; and sent my brother and me to a camp, where we were glorified lab rats, living in appalling conditions. Where was god then?  
  
Tom exhaled a large mouthful of air slowly, I don't have an answer for that, Sydney, but, I can tell you, that God is here, now, and I'll help you find Him, and yourself again.  
  
Sydney frowned, his voice softer than a whisper, I don't know if I want to find him any more than--  
  
Any more than what, Syd?  
  
Any more than I want to find myself.  
  
******************  
  
**The Centre**  
  
Parker shivered involuntarily as the elevator ascended.   
  
Broots' voice reflected slight concern, Are you okay, Miss Parker?  
  
Yeah, elevator's just giving me the creeps today, that's all.  
  
Broots nodded and changed the subject, I didn't think it would take us this long to search three floors. They're bigger than they look.  
  
Just like the conspiracies in this place.  
  
The elevator doors opened, and Mr. Parker was standing there with a smile, Angel, I was looking for you.  
  
  
  
Yes, may I have a word?  
  
Of course. She turned to Broots, I'll meet you back in your office.  
  
  
  
Mr. Parker watched the computer tech leave, and then he took Miss Parker by the elbow and quickly moved her through the main foyer, and down the hallway toward his office. They said nothing until they were inside it, and the doors were closed.  
  
Where have you been all morning and early afternoon, Angel?  
  
  
  
His voice took on a stony quality,   
  
With all the excitement around here, Broots and I had fallen behind in the search for Jarod, so--  
  
--So you thought you'd head down to SL-27 and look for him?  
  
Parker stared at him, then tried to recover, Well, actually, we thought that--  
  
Mr. Parker grabbed her hard by the arms, Don't lie to me. I know what you're up to...  
  
Daddy...you're hurting me...  
  
After a minor staring contest, Parker let go of his daughter, but continued to hold her eyes with his, You stay out of this, do you hear me?  
  
She frowned at him, Stay out of _what,_ Daddy?  
  
This whole mess with Sydney and the boy. Stand clear of it.  
  
We've already had this argument, and I meant what I said; I won't stay out of it. What are you afraid I'll find?  
  
Nothing. That isn't the point.  
  
Then what is? I already know about the impostor who was here yelling at Sydney, pretending to be Mrs. Maisel; I know that Jack Carnes was paid off by the Centre to set him up; and I know that Eric Maisel was stolen from his real parents, and that Dr. Raines signed his death certificate, so chances are he's around here somewhere. What I don't know is why. Care to enlighten me? For one of the first times in her life, she saw fear in her father's eyes, and it scared her.   
  
It took him a long moment before he could find his voice, You need to forget everything you just said to me. Do you understand? She started to balk, and he grabbed her again, even harder, _Do you understand?_ She nodded and he eased his grip, I can't protect you in this, if you don't stay out of it.  
  
Daddy, please tell me what's going on.  
  
I can't. You're just going to have to trust me.  
  
Her eyes darted up to his; she'd heard it so many times before, and how many of those times had she been disappointed?  
  
Not this time, Daddy.  
  
She started out the door, but he grabbed her once more, It's too late, do you hear me?  
  
What do you mean?  
  
A sweeper team has already been sent to your house. They're bringing Sydney in.  
  
He turned brusquely away from her, dismissing her.  
  
You can't do that... Daddy, you promised me. She took ahold of his sleeve, You can't do this.  
  
He looked at her, not a hint of emotion to be found, It's done.  
  
****************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
Tom jumped out of his chair as the front door burst open, and several men in suits toting guns, entered.   
  
A tall man moved quickly to Tom, and placed a gun in his face, Don't do anything rash, and you'll be fine.  
  
Tom's blood froze and his muscles clinched up, he had never felt a fear of this magnitude. He glanced over at the couch, and noticed that Sydney hadn't even flinched. It was almost as if the man had expected it; or perhaps nothing could phase him in his current state, Tom wasn't sure.   
  
Tom's voice quivered slightly, I've got thirty bucks in my pocket, just take it.  
  
The sweeper holding the gun simply glared at Tom, but said nothing.   
  
Another man in a suit moved over to Sydney, Get up, doctor.   
  
A voice from the doorway yelled, Willie, what the hell are you doing?  
  
Stay out of it, Sam, I have my orders.  
  
I don't give a good goddamn about your orders, Willie, I have mine. And mine say that Sydney doesn't leave this house.  
  
Willie moved to stand nose to nose with Sam, I was sent here by the Triumvirate. You wanna tell _them_ I can't take him?  
  
Sam swallowed hard, Does Miss Parker know about this?  
  
Doesn't matter, her father does. Now stay out of it.  
  
Tom piped up, Hey, who the hell are you people?  
  
Willie nodded to the man holding the gun to Tom's head, and the sweeper hit him, hard. Tom quickly crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Sydney started off the couch, to check on the priest, but Willie grabbed ahold of him, and roughly yanked him toward the door.  
  
Sam put a hand over Willie's arm, There's no need to treat him like that.....it's not like he's going to fight you.  
  
Willie glared for a moment, then let go of Sydney's arm. Sam gently took ahold of the psychiatrist and led him toward the door, Come on, Sydney, walk with me.  
  
But what about Fr. Tom?  
  
Don't worry about him, he'll be fine.  
  
Where are we going?  
  
Sam looked at him sadly, I'm taking you to the Centre.  
  
******************  
  
**The Centre**  
  
Miss Parker was coming from Broots' office, after asking him to go to her house and check on Fr. Rausch, when she saw the sweeper team with Sydney, moving down the hallway. She wondered who had ordered his retrieval to be executed in such a public manner, forcing Sydney to march through the main hallways. Sam was walking next to Sydney, holding him by the arm; and judging from Sam's demeanor, it was protective, not hostile. Parker quickly moved to the group, and stopped right in front of them.  
  
Sydney brightened when he saw her, Catherine, thank god...  
  
Parker smiled gently at Sydney, You okay? He nodded, and she glared at Willie, What do you think you're doing? Without waiting for an answer she turned to Sam, And _you_ were supposed to prevent this...  
  
Sam looked down, There was no choice, Miss Parker....  
  
Willie smiled at her, This came directly from the Triumvirate and your father's office, Miss Parker. If you have a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with them.  
  
Willie nodded and the group started moving again, but Parker shoved her hands against Willie's chest and they stopped. The tall sweeper glared into her eyes, silently daring her to move against him.   
  
Parker smiled dangerously, This isn't over, Willie. She then turned to Sydney and ran a tender hand down his cheek, Don't worry, Syd, everything will be fine. I'll see to it. She then grabbed Sam by the tie, getting into his face, You stay with him, you don't let him out of your sight. Anything happens to him, and you're dead, you get me?  
  
Sam nodded, and Miss Parker stepped out of the way. It was then that Sydney became agitated, and started to struggle against his captors.  
  
No...Catherine, please, don't let them take me....  
  
The sweepers fought him down, hitting him hard in the abdomen. Two of them held Miss Parker back when she tried to intervene. Sydney's pleas for her to help him, tore at her heart, and she closed her eyes, as they dragged him out of view. She shoved the sweepers away from her, and headed toward her father's office, reaching for her cell phone as she rounded a corner.  
  
****************  
  
**Miss Parker's House**  
  
Broots entered the house without knocking, Fr. Tom? Father? Are you--  
  
The computer tech found the man just hanging up the phone, a large cut dripping blood from his forehead.  
  
That was Miss Parker on the phone. She told me that she needs you back at the Centre asap, and that you need to turn your cell phone on.  
  
A slight look of bumbling consternation filled Broots' face as he reached into his pocket and turned his phone on, Damn... Are you all right?  
  
Yeah, I'll be fine.  
  
Broots looked at the damage to the front door, What the hell happened?  
  
Bunch of guys broke in and took Sydney. Parker told me not to call the cops, that she's on it.  
  
Broots walked toward the door, Yeah, we'll take it from here, but thanks for everything. Are you sure you're okay?  
  
Fine.....listen, Broots...what the hell kind of place do you people work for anyway?  
  
You really don't want to know, father.  
  
Tom shook his head as he watched Broots quickly move to his car, get in and drive off. He offered up a silent prayer for god to protect these people with whom he had become involved, and yet hardly knew. Somehow he had the feeling they were going to need it.  
  
**************  
  
**The Centre  
Mr Parker's Office**  
  
Parker stormed into her father's office, only to find it empty. A paper lying on the floor by his desk caught her eye. After checking the door, to be sure no one was near, she quickly moved to his desk, and picked up the note, which read:  
  
Transfer of cargo will be completed by 9pm tonight.  
SL19/34 to Sandor School. All trails blocked.  
  
Parker folded up the note and slipped it into her pocket. She quickly left the office, and headed for the Renewal Wing.  
  
****************  
  
**Renewal Wing**  
  
Miss Parker walked briskly down the corridor, and found Sam standing outside a cell, nursing a bloody nose.  
  
What the hell are you doing? I told you not to leave him.  
  
I'm sorry, Miss Parker, I wasn't really given a choice. This is as close as I can get.  
  
Parker glared at him, but pulled the handkerchief from his jacket pocket and gently pressed it to his nose, He still in there?  
  
Yes ma'am.  
  
Has anyone else been down here?  
  
Mr. Raines, a little while ago.  
  
Parker's features quickly filled with worry, How long was he in there?  
  
About fifteen minutes. And Miss Parker, he had equipment with him.  
  
What did it look like?  
  
Like the kind of stuff used in electroshock therapy.  
  
Oh god, She dabbed carefully around his nose and her voice grew softer, Okay, you stay out here.  
  
Yes ma'am.  
  
Parker gave him the bloodied handkerchief, and strode to the door, only to be blocked by two very large sweepers she didn't know.  
  
She smiled at them, I'd advise you two to stand down.  
  
The larger of the two men countered, Can't do that, ma'am. No one goes in or out.  
  
I've never seen either of you before. Who do you report to?  
  
The same one continued, We report directly to Mugambi, Miss Parker.  
  
She arched an eyebrow at him, You know who I am. Good. Then you know I'm not kidding when I tell you that if you don't let me into that room, she whipped out her 9mm and pointed it at the man's crotch, you're going to be joining the ranks of the castrati.  
  
The sweeper looked down at the gun pointing at his crotch, and then he glanced nervously to the other sweeper, Uh, maybe we could make an exception in your case, Miss Parker.  
  
The second sweeper shrugged, It's your call.  
  
The large sweeper moved aside, and Parker put her gun away and reached for the door handle, Good thinking.  
  
She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. The room was extremely dark, and Parker reached for the lights. She turned them on and to her horror, found Sydney in a ball in the corner of the room, his hands protectively covering his head. Parker fought down her own terror, and took a calming breath. She walked slowly over to Sydney and knelt next to him. Instinctively he cowered away from her as she gently reached to bring his arms down.  
  
It's okay, Syd, it's me. It's okay.  
  
No, please leave me alone. No more. Please....  
  
Shhh, Sydney, it's okay. It's me, it's just me.  
  
She finally got him to look at her, and relief filled his eyes, Catherine, thank god.....  
  
Parker pulled him into her arms and held him tightly, until she felt him relax. Gently, she pushed him away from her, so that she could see his face.  
  
You okay, Syd?  
  
Raines.....it was Raines....but he had no hair.  
  
Yeah, Nosferatu's gone bald in his old age. What did he say to you, Sydney?  
  
He told me if I didn't cooperate, I'd end up with a frontal lobotomy. Then he told me he'd give me a little taste of what was to come...  
  
And he hit you with electro-shock.  
  
Yes. Please don't let them do this to me. Please....  
  
It's going to be okay, but I need your help, Syd.  
  
What can I do?  
  
I need you to remember.  
  
  
  
I need you to remember who you are, Sydney. Who you are now. He looked at her, confused, she placed her hands on either side of his face, It's 2001, not 1968. I am Catherine Parker's daughter; you work with me every day, Syd, searching for Jarod, because he left the Centre almost six years ago.  
  
I don't remember.   
  
Fr. Tom told me briefly about what you discovered today. Is that what happened Syd? When you saw Eric on the floor dying, did that helplessness remind you of how you felt when your sister died? Hmm?  
  
Sydney pushed away from her, slamming his eyes shut; he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to feel the pain that filled his heart.  
  
Parker stayed with him, pulling his face back toward hers, Is that it, Sydney? You feel guilty because you lived and your sister didn't? Because you survived a car crash and Jacob was in a coma for thirty years? You feel guilty because you're here and you think Eric Maisel isn't?  
  
Leave me alone.....  
  
I will not, Sydney. You've got to face this pain, or it's going to destroy you. You lost your faith because a corrupt priest cost you your family, and you somehow took the guilt upon yourself. And now you're on the brink of losing your mind because you feel responsible for a child's death.  
  
  
  
He tried to shove her away, but she grabbed his arms, hard, Listen to me....you're not responsible for all of the bad things that have happened. Sometimes terrible things happen, and we all just have to keep going. Even you. _ Especially you._ You have so much more to give, Sydney, please, don't leave me now.  
  
His eyes were full of such anguish, Parker felt her own sting with tears.  
  
His voice was like a cry, I can't. I can't remember....  
  
Defeated, Parker let him go, and he curled up in a ball of pain on the floor, crying to himself. She ran a soft hand down his back as she stood up, exhaling a large sigh of air.  
  
I think he's alive, Syd. I think Eric's alive, and I think he's here, and I'm going to find him. I may not be able to bring you back, but at least I can save him.  
  
Parker turned and walked out the door. After he heard the echo of her heels disappear, he looked up toward the door, his eyes filling with uncertainty.  
  
He barely whispered,   
  
***************  
  
**SL-19**  
  
Broots nervously followed Miss Parker down the corridor, God this place gives me the creeps, big time.  
  
Parker stopped walking, and Broots plowed right into her back, Hey, Shaggy, watch where you're going.  
  
Miss Parker looked at the numbers on the doors as they walked by, 39, 38, 37, 36, 35.....  
  
She stopped in front of number 34, Here it is.  
  
They peered into the small glass in the door, but it had been covered over obstructing the view. Parker put her hand on the door knob, and Broots put his on top of hers.  
  
What if it's a trap? I mean, you did just find this on a scrap of paper lying in your father's office, and--  
  
--We do not have time to stand here and argue the finer points, Broots. I'm going in, you can stay out here or come with me, but you're not going to keep me from it.  
  
He removed his hand, and Parker turned the knob; the door was locked.  
  
  
  
Guess we'll have to come back later. Parker pulled her gun out and Broots held up his hands, I was only kidding....  
  
She pointed it at the lock and squeezed the trigger twice, blowing the lock right out of the door. She kicked the door in and disappeared inside.  
  
Broots cautiously followed her, So much for a covert action...  
  
The little boy stared at Parker, and she moved quickly to him, Eric? My name is Miss Parker, and I'm going to help you get back to your mom and dad.  
  
Where's Sydney? Where is he?  
  
Sydney ...hasn't been feeling well, Eric. Don't you want to go see your mom and dad?  
  
The child's brows knitted together, I.....I don't know what you're talking about.  
  
Parker knelt in front of the boy, Sure you do Eric. You remember your mom and your dad. Your big house on the cape. The treehouse in the backyard....  
  
The boy ran away from her toward the back of the room, No, I don't know what you're talking about!  
  
Parker went to him again, Eric, it's okay....  
  
My mom and dad are dead.  
  
Who told you that, Eric?  
  
Mr. Raines.  
  
Hmmm, well you know, he's just a cranky old company tool who gets things wrong a lot. Your mom and dad are fine, and they're really worried about you..  
  
Broots smiled at the child, Your folks are really nice, Eric, we talked to them just yesterday. They really want you to come home.  
  
Eric took a step toward Parker, who held her hand out to him. After another moment of thinking on it, the boy took her hand in his, and they started moving toward the door.  
  
Eric, do you remember anything that happened to you?  
  
Not really. I was playing in my treehouse, and the next thing I knew, I was here, and Mr. Raines told me that my parents were dead.  
  
What else did he tell you?  
  
That I wasn't to ever talk about my parents with anyone.  
  
Not even Sydney?  
  
Especially not Sydney. He said that it would make Sydney really sad if I mentioned it.  
  
  
  
They rounded the corner toward the elevator, and as the doors opened, Sam came rushing out.  
  
Miss Parker, I'm glad I found you.  
  
What the hell is the matter?  
  
It's Sydney. They've taken him to the Tower.  
  
Broots muttered, When it Raines, it pours.  
  
Parker glared at the tech, but turned back to Sam, How did you know I was down here?  
  
Your...father told me.  
  
Unbelievable. It was a set up. She handed Eric off to Broots, Use the tunnel exit from SL-27, and get him out of here. Go, go...  
  
Broots took the child and made a hasty exit toward the stairwell and SL-27.   
  
Parker looked at Sam, I hope you have a lot of ammo....  
  
Reluctantly Sam followed Parker to the elevator; whatever she had in mind, it wasn't going to pretty.  
  
******************  
  
**The Tower**  
  
Sydney stood under the scrutiny of the tribunal known only as the Triumvirate. The room reminded him of a gigantic chess table, with its checkered floor, and the sweepers stationed around the room against the walls looking like pawns ready to spring into battle. Glancing about the room, he counted seventeen members, including Parker and Raines; although he couldn't understand why either of them looked so old. On Parker's right sat Mugambi, Qalhata and Jordan. Raines sat on Mr. Parker's left, looking about as smug as Sydney could ever remember seeing the man.   
  
It was Mugambi who spoke first, Do you know why you're here, doctor?  
  
I presume it's because one or more of you thinks me incompetent.  
  
Mmmm, yes, that's right. Not only incompetent, doctor, but also negligent.  
  
Negligent? How have I been negligent with Jarod?  
  
Qalhata answered, This isn't about Jarod, doctor. This is in regard to the incident with Eric Maisel.  
  
Sydney frowned at her, I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're referring to...  
  
Looks passed between members of the Triumvirate, and Sydney could see that it wasn't boding well for him.  
  
A man in a wheelchair with a white hat spoke up, Doctor, can you tell us what happened last Tuesday?  
  
Last Tuesday....hmmm... Sydney shrugged, I came to work I suppose, like I would any other day.  
  
The man in the hat continued, And you don't remember anything else about that day?  
  
No. Should I?  
  
Qalhata responded again, Yes, doctor, you should. A little boy in your care died that day because of a sim you designed. And while we know that the parameters of the sim were tampered with by Jack Carnes, ultimately it was your responsibility, and you must answer for it.  
  
I'm afraid that I cannot comment upon that which I do not remember.  
  
Losing patience Raines turned toward Mugambi, I told you he's suffered a nervous breakdown, let's just get on with this.  
  
Mugambi shot a warning look at Raines, I will thank you to remain silent through these proceedings, Mr. Raines. When you are required to speak, we will let you know. Raines scowled but said nothing more. Mugambi turned to Sydney, Doctor, do you know what year this is?  
  
Sydney smiled at him, Of course, it's.... His smile dissolved into confusion, he couldn't remember the year,   
  
Parker glanced at Mugambi, and the latter nodded, so Parker spoke up, It's all right, Sydney, never mind. I think we have the picture.  
  
Mr. Parker stood up and walked over to Sydney, preparing to escort him out of the chamber, when the door to the room burst open. Sydney looked on in horror as the sweepers around the room pulled their guns, pointing them toward the two figures entering the room. He could hear screams in the background, but they sounded muffled to him. He watched in terror, as Sam rolled in to his right, and Miss Parker darted in to the left, aiming her gun at Mugambi. Out of the corner of his eye, Sydney saw a sweeper level his gun at Miss Parker, his finger starting to pull on the trigger.  
  
Images flashed like lightening in front of Sydney's eyes, as the action in the room seemed to slow down. He saw Miss Parker as a child with Jarod, then at her mother's funeral; and Sydney knew at that moment that Catherine was dead. Pictures of the past six years moved through his mind of the work that they had done together, and all the times they had leaned on each other. In a millisecond, Sydney knew where and who he was, and that he couldn't let anything happen to the little girl who had grown into the woman he thought of as his own.  
  
His voice screamed above the panic in the room, NO! Miss Parker!  
  
As Mr. Parker dove for cover under a nearby chair, Sydney dove for Miss Parker, knocking her down to the ground as the sweeper fired. Sydney felt a bullet whiz past him, grazing his cheek. They landed in a heap on the floor, and as they scrambled for their feet, the sweepers surrounded them. Miss Parker was by no means ready to surrender, but Sydney grabbed her arm, shoving her behind him. He stood protectively in front of her, staring down the barrels of four guns. Everything in the room stopped. And for several heartbeats, there was not a movement, nor a sound.  
  
Mugambi stepped forward in the silence, Miss Parker, what is the meaning of this?'  
  
She tried to move around Sydney, but he kept a tight hold on her, acting as a shield between Miss Parker and the sweepers.   
  
Parker looked at him, hoping that it was the man she knew,   
  
Are you all right, Miss Parker?  
  
The relief in her tone was apparent, I am now.  
  
Mugambi interrupted, Miss Parker?  
  
She glared at Mugambi, I came here to stop you from making a huge mistake.  
  
Oh? And what mistake would that be?  
  
There could be consequences to the decision you're about to make. Possibilities to which you have not been made privy.  
  
Once again she tried to move past Sydney, but he still didn't let go.   
  
The psychiatrist looked at Mugambi, Call off your dogs.  
  
Very well...stand down, gentlemen.  
  
The sweepers holstered their guns and moved back. Everyone else in the room slowly got off the floor and sat back down, Mr. Parker one of the last to recover. Finally, Sydney let go of Miss Parker's arm, and she stepped out from behind him, walking slowly toward Mugambi.  
  
There's a little bit more to this than meets the eye. You see, not only was Eric Maisel stolen from his parents, and presented to Sydney under false pretenses, he's not dead. Murmurs of comments shimmered through the room, and when they died down, she continued, Furthermore, Jack Carnes and the woman who pretended to be Eric Maisel's mother were both paid off via Centre bank accounts, although the origin of those accounts has not been resolved.  
  
Get to the point, Miss Parker.  
  
The point, Mugambi, is quite simple; someone, or several someones planned to push Sydney over the edge with all of this, and violated oh, half a dozen federal laws in the process.  
  
Why would someone go to such a length, just to get to a Centre shrink?  
  
Miss Parker looked down, I'm afraid we haven't been able to uncover the motive, nor the people involved. She looked pointedly at Raines and Mr. Parker, Although I suspicion that some of them are in this room.  
  
Qalhata spoke up, I assume that you have proof for all of this?  
  
Oh yeah.....and if the status quo around here doesn't resume, that proof will wind up in some pretty uncomfortable places.  
  
The man in the white hat smiled, Well, in light of all this, I think we might put this one to bed.  
  
Mugambi cut off the voices of assent, We still have one minor problem.  
  
The man in the white hat stared,   
  
Yes, you see, no matter the reasons, there is still the question of the good doctor's sanity.  
  
A smile curled Miss Parker's lips, What year is it, Syd?  
  
  
  
And who am I?  
  
Miss Parker, Catherine Parker's daughter.  
  
And Jarod?  
  
He escaped the Centre almost six years ago, and we've been chasing him ever since.  
  
She looked at him, concern in her eyes,   
  
A small smile lit his eyes, A very precocious seven year old with whom I have had the distinct pleasure of working. And I'm thrilled to hear that he is alive and well.  
  
Although tears clouded Miss Parker's eyes, she looked triumphantly back at Mugambi, Is there anything else?  
  
He hesitated, then finally said, No, I suppose that there is not. This meeting of the Triumvirate is adjourned.  
  
The room began to empty fairly quickly, as the members of the most clandestine arm of the Centre faded back into the woodwork. Miss Parker walked over to Sydney, and brushed a lock of hair out of his face, while she inspected the wound on his cheek.  
  
Does it hurt?  
  
It's just a flesh wound, I'll be fine.  
  
Mr. Parker interrupted, Angel, are you all right?  
  
I'm fine, Daddy. No thanks to you.  
  
Parker's eyes reflected the hurt, Well, I....What the hell did you think you were doing, anyway? You could have gotten yourself killed....  
  
Mugambi placed a hand on Parker's shoulder, We need to have a word....  
  
I'll be right there. Parker turned back to his daughter, running a gentle hand across her cheek, Have dinner with me tonight?  
  
She smiled at him, Actually Daddy, she looked at Sydney, I have something else I have to do. She put an arm around Sydney's shoulder and guided him toward the door, Welcome back, Freud.  
  
Sydney's soft laughter filtered through the room, and Mr. Parker's eyes filled with the moisture of hurt. The door to the room closed, and Parker realized that the only people left were Qalhata, Mugambi, Jordan, the man in the white hat, and himself. He turned to face them.  
  
Mugambi stated, it would seem that genetics made their own case today, didn't they?  
  
Parker looked away, She's a Parker, she can take care of herself.  
  
Mugambi laughed, She can take care of herself at any rate.  
  
Qalhata broke in, We are right back where we started. Sydney could still be a problem.  
  
Parker was staring at the man in the white hat, and Mugambi offered an explanation, We felt it best to bring the colonel in on this...  
  
I see.  
  
The colonel looked confused, If Catherine Parker left her shares of stock to Sydney, how the hell is it that he still doesn't know? I mean, he hardly seems like the dullest bulb in the bin.  
  
Parker's voice was harsh, It was in the language of the will. My late wife left her shares literally to my daughter's father.'  
  
Jordan continued, Everyone of course assumed that the father of Miss Parker was Mr. Parker, so he took control of the shares, and has retained the controlling number of shares ever since.  
  
The colonel's face looked dark under his hat, And Sydney has no idea that he might possibly have fathered Miss Parker?  
  
He hasn't a clue. Mr. Parker sat down wearily in a chair, In the late fifties and early sixties, the Centre was at the bottom level of the groundbreaking research in artificial insemination. The truth is, we were years ahead of anyone else. We were also running experimental studies in the sleep patterns of twins. Sydney and his brother Jacob were used in one of the experiments requiring sedatives.  
  
And while they were under, you just helped yourselves to their sperm?  
  
Something like that, yes.  
  
The colonel nodded, That explains the how, but why Sydney? Why not Jacob?  
  
An ironic laugh escaped Parker's mouth, At the time, we thought Sydney would be easier to control.  
  
Mugambi sat down in a chair, We've been paying for that poor judgment call ever since.  
  
Qalhata voiced the fear in the room, God help us if either of them ever stumbles across the truth.  
  
So deep in thought were they, that the sound of the squeaky wheels on the floor behind them, escaped everyone's notice.  
  
*********************  
  
**St. Ignatious Church**  
  
They stood on the steps of the church, staring at the doors. Miss Parker held her hand out to him, and slowly he took it.  
  
You ready, Freud?  
  
I suppose.  
  
One step at a time, Sydney. Come on....  
  
Parker led him into the vestibule, and toward the fount of holy water. Just as she was about to dip her finger into it, Fr. Tom's voice caught her attention.  
  
As I live and breath, look what blew into my church. The priest shook hands with Sydney, and hugged Miss Parker, You both look better than when I last saw you.  
  
Miss Parker smiled at him, Father, thank you so much for all your help.  
  
Sydney added, It's much appreciated, father, and I'm sorry about the bump you had to take on the head.  
  
Don't worry about it. I'm glad everything worked out for the best. He touched Sydney's sleeve, Besides, Sydney, I think we owed you one.  
  
Tears filled Sydney's eyes, and impulsively he pulled the priest into an embrace. After a moment, he pulled back and smiled deeply, Thank you, Fr. Rausch. Thank you for everything.  
  
Is there anything else I can do for the two of you before I lock up for the evening?  
  
Parker smiled at him, Let us have the church for a few minutes?  
  
Tom smiled at her, For you, Miss Parker, anything.  
  
Anyone ever tell you that for a man of the cloth, you're a big flirt?  
  
It's in the dictionary under Jesuit. Oh, you'll have to share the sanctuary with our wedding soloist, she and the organist are in the loft running through their tunes for tomorrow's weddings.  
  
Parker grinned, We can live with that, father, thanks again.  
  
Fr. Tom walked out of the vestibule, locking the doors behind him. Parker turned and looked at Sydney, dipped her finger into the fount, made the sign of the cross and waited. After a momentary hesitation, he did the same, and together they walked into the church, and slipped quietly into the pew they had sat in only a few nights before.  
  
Parker looked toward the altar, taking in the lit candles on the side altars, and the flowers on the main one.  
  
It really is beautiful in here.  
  
Sydney sounded unconvinced,   
  
She glanced at him and noticed he was sweating, Syd? You okay?  
  
He nodded, Just feeling a little....  
  
  
  
  
  
She took his hand, I'm right here with you.  
  
He squeezed her hand before letting it go, bending down and lowering the kneeler. The two of them knelt down, both extracting rosaries from their pockets.  
  
I haven't said a rosary for my sister since I was a little boy.  
  
That's why we're going to do it now. She looked over at him, You never told me her name.  
  
He smiled, the French name gently tumbling off his tongue,   
  
All the colour drained from Parker's face and she looked away.   
  
Concerned, Sydney put an arm around her, Parker, are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost. Here, he gently lifted her back onto the pew, getting her off her knees, fearing that she might faint, sit here.  
  
I'm.....I'm fine, Syd. Really.  
  
The deep brown eyes looked into her grey ones, You wouldn't lie to me, would you Parker? After all, we are in a church...  
  
Parker blinked away the tears in her eyes, and impetuously grabbed Syd by the neck, hugging him tightly.  
  
Hey......what's this for?   
  
After a moment he gently pushed her away, then placed a tender kiss on her forehead. She grabbed his hand, and once again they knelt before the altar, preparing to say the rosary. It was then that the first notes of Bach's organ accompaniment softly rolled like a cloud through the church. He recognized it almost immediately, and slammed his eyes shut against the painful memory which followed. He leaned his arms on the pew in front of him, and his head on his hands, tears flowing down his face, falling onto the pew.  
  
Parker frowned,; it took her a moment to understand, but as soon as the singer's voice floated out above the gentle tones of the organ pipes, she recognized it as the _Ave Maria_, and knew why it had made him cry. She placed an arm around him, gently squeezing his neck with her hand.  
  
Leaning her head into his, she spoke in the softest of whispers, Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.  
  
Sydney's emotion filled voice joined Parker's, Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.  
  
Parker held onto him, and he leaned his head into her for comfort. The tears of long held grief flowed out of him, as the music continued rising upon the fires of incense, burning in the hearts of the faithful.  
  
fin  
  
He who sings well, prays twice. - St. Augustine  
  



End file.
